


Break Me, Make Me

by Rising_Eagle (Robin_Mask)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Battle, Civil War, Internal Conflict, Internalized racism, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Self-Hatred, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Mask/pseuds/Rising_Eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What makes you think I would agree to that? I am no fool, Brother.”</p><p>“I see it in your eyes. Your curiosity is killing you. You want to know whether they cursed me, touched me, or harmed me. You want to know, as your blood is already boiling and your rage is taking over. You’ll follow me and you won’t regret it.”</p><p>"I regret it already."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_‘Our armies drove the Frost giants back into the heart of their own world. The cost was great. In the end, their king fell, and the source of their power was taken from them.’_

* * *

“It seems like one of your brother’s tricks backfired.”

Thor laughed at Fandral’s words. He looked across the hall to see Loki alone upon the step, where he sat with his head upon his hand, as if deep in thought. The younger prince always stood apart from the rest of them, always on the sidelines, and sometimes – when Thor felt the need to understand why – he realised that his brother isolated himself, that he preferred the shadows to the centre, and now was no different. There were times where he was capable of social behaviour, but these were few and far between.

The young man looked every bit as regal as he ought; he kept his hair short and slicked back, much in contrast to Thor’s more untamed appearance, and he refused to let a single hair live upon his chin. He looked far younger than his years, enough to be teased regularly by Volstagg. There was something about his outfit that always puzzled Thor, however. There was something about the green and black clothing that made it seem that Loki wished to differentiate himself from those around him, as if he clung to individuality like a drowning man to air, and yet there were times Thor caught his brother in his ‘illusions’, with red cloaks and weaponry much like his own, which was enough to make him wonder.

“I hope not, his moods can be worse than the consequences,” said Thor.

“Come now, I seem to remember his last prank going rather well, don’t you?” Fandral let out a laugh, as he raised his cup to his lips. “I think that dress rather suited you. Still, it’s very rare that you’re on the receiving end of his little moods. You should talk to him.”

“If he has chosen to sit alone, he may well wish to be alone,” added Sif.

“It is best to let sleeping dogs lie,” added Hogun.

The mood of the hall was pleasant overall; Thor stood with his friends, drinks in hand, as people danced and ate and spoke freely, while the sky outside gradually grew darker and the lights inside grew brighter. Loki would occasionally disappear from sight, as someone passed before him or in between their line of vision, but he appeared to remain transfixed in place and lost in his private world. He was framed by the sky outside the open arches, while occasionally a servant would try to grab his attention, and it worried Thor to see him this way. Not least, because it was usually Loki that was the attentive one.

He gave a smile and downed his drink, before he slammed the contents onto the tray of a nearby servant. The man fell forward slightly, forced to quickly grab the contents of his tray to stop them falling off, as he sent an exasperated look to the older prince and bit his tongue to refrain from speaking out of place. Thor noted this well, although he ignored it and raised a hand to excuse himself from his friends, whose reactions varied from ‘acceptance’ to ‘disbelief’. A child darted by and nearly tripped Thor as he walked away.

It took only a few moments to reach his brother. He sat beside him, where he kept his gaze upon their friends and family, and tried to appear inconspicuous in his attempts to discern the cause of his brother’s frustration. Loki apparently saw through him; a small smirk pulled at his lips, as he looked at him with those light-blue eyes, and soon he turned head completely to look at Thor with an indecipherable expression. There was a small sigh from him, as he gently leaned back and rested a hand upon his forearm. Thor watched quietly. It was possible that his brother had been hurt in some way, but he was too much a warrior for that.

“It is not like you to be so quiet,” said Thor.

Loki rolled his eyes and brushed his arm with his thumb, and Thor – curious as to the damage taken – reached out to take his brother’s arm in hand. The reaction was instantaneous. Loki struck him hard upon his wrist, enough to make him wince and pull away, and at once he was on his feet and leaning against the pillar beside him. It was Thor’s turn to roll his eyes; he climbed to his feet and stood partially behind Loki and mostly to his side.

“It is a wonder you know what I’m like, Brother,” added Loki.

“What is that supposed to mean? You know I always have time for you.”

“Is that so? Since Father announced your coronation, it seems that you have spent more time in the company of your adoring fans than anywhere else. I have learnt more secrets about our realm in the past few years, than you have learnt about fighting techniques in the past century! I have watched you, too. I have seen how quick you are to anger, how your arrogance overwhelms your sense of politics and reason, and how you hunger for power.”

“Is there something you wish to say to me, Brother? I have done nothing to antagonise you, but – should you have some complaint – I suggest we deal with your grievances on the training field. You may be skilled with magic, but I seriously doubt your magic can overcome my fists! Is that what you want, Loki? Do you wish to fight me?”

Thor leaned in closer than he intended. He could feel Loki’s hair against his lips, while his brother’s shoulder pressed awkwardly against his chest, and his attempts to be inconspicuous failed quite miserably. The invasion of his personal space likely looked either aggressive or sensual, and Thor knew that it would not appear the latter. He felt an ache on his brow from the frown he wore, while his hand gripped at the hammer tightly enough to bruise his fingers, and it took a long moment before he pulled back. Loki turned and leaned into him.

It seemed that Loki wished to regain some control, as he stood a mere inch from Thor and locked eyes with him rather dangerously. The crowd seemed to move away from them, giving them a substantial space just for themselves, and Thor – fearing the sudden attention – grabbed Loki roughly by the back of his neck and threw him behind the pillar. He pushed his brother against the column roughly, although Loki did nothing but laugh in return.

“Even now you act the brute,” snapped Loki.

“Will you confide in me or will you continue to shun me?”

“You wish for me to be honest? Very well,” said Loki coolly. “Our father once said that we were both born to be kings, but only one of us should become king. I have never once envied you for your position. Mother has always petitioned that I should remain by your side, to advise you and to guide you, and that is a position I have been most content with playing, but I see you recently ignore all my advice and words. What good is a king that cannot listen to his people? You are quick to war and quicker to fight. You would bring us to war.

“I have spoken to Father, but he will not listen. He sees in you aspects of himself, not to mention a great deal of Mother, and I feel that he has fallen to your charisma and strengths, failing to see your faults. You could be a great king indeed, but it is too soon for you to ascend the throne and you have too much to learn about what it means to be truly worthy, while I will readily admit that the throne is not mine to take. I fear for you, Thor. I do.”

The look in Loki’s eyes was sincere. There was a narrowing to them, along with an expression caught somewhere between a smile and scowl, and his words were soft and gentle enough that Thor would not feel provoked. It was a talent that Thor often envied, as Loki was able – when he sought to be kind – to chastise or question without causing offence, as he knew exactly how to temper his tone and what words to choose, and so Thor found himself unable to make a scene. He let out a long hiss of breath.

Loki’s smiled became something gentle in response, but it was not enough to quell Thor’s fury at the insult, and he turned to make his way back to his friends. The movement seemed to irritate Loki. The younger man rolled his eyes and quickly stepped before Thor, as he placed long and delicate fingers upon Thor’s chest, and – as he pushed lightly – Thor allowed himself to be guided back behind the pillar, even as he glared back.

It was difficult to remain calm. The noise of the party echoed about his ears, while he felt a strong thirst for mead and a need for something to eat, and these were celebrations often spent revelling in tales of the past and making new acquaintances. He disliked being held back by Loki, especially to be chastised and patronised, but he held strong and reminded himself that there was always more to Loki’s words than what first appeared. He also remembered that Loki always supported him in his worst moods, so he owed it to him to do the same in return. Thor adjusted his hammer and pursed his lips into a pout.

“I can control my temper,” said Thor.

“Can you?” Loki laughed. “You have allowed yourself to be manipulated by myself and Mother too many times to count, whereas those around you know it only takes but a few words to have your emotions at their mercy. Do you remember when the guard insinuated that your brain is your only muscle not exercised? You nearly killed him.”

“They should not talk so freely! You had the guards flogged merely for delivering a message late to Lady Sif, but you chastise me for how I will not stand an insult? My behaviour towards them is far more just than yours, Brother!”

“See, even now, you grow defensive and do not listen! I have heard rumours that Father has been tempted to cast you out, to teach you humility and patience, and I -? I was willing to use that against you. You know that I am aware of many secret passages into other realms, and it is these realms that I abused in the hopes of allowing in those that would sabotage your coronation, incite you into wrath, to show to others what I already know to be true!”

Loki bit his lip and shook his head, while he looked around the hall. There were guards at the pillars adjacent to them, while a large space was cleared all around them, and it would be impossible to be overheard unless they chose to practically scream aloud. The guards would not dare to risk their lives by speaking aloud to others about the private conversations of the royal family, but that did not stop the momentary shame Thor felt in knowing they could hear such insults. He saw his friends watch them from afar, as the shame hit harder.

“I learned something about myself,” said Loki.

Thor looked back to Loki and saw something strange. He would not deny that his brother was a highly attractive individual, enough that he always carried himself with graceful and deliberate movements, but he wore such a vulnerable expression that the panic in his eyes marred him somewhat. It brought out a protective urge from Thor, who wanted nothing more than to hold Loki and swear to make everything right, but instead he simply asked:

“What have you learned?”

“It is something I cannot confide to you in this place,” said Loki. “I met with the Jotun leader and spoke to him at great length, something that would not have been possible had _you_ been present, but – on exit – I spoke out of turn and a guard grabbed hold of me. It was then that something happened, something that I have not since been able to recreate . . .”

“If I ignore what you planned . . . if I refuse to tell Father that you sought to ruin the coronation . . . would you tell me what happened to you? I swear, if a single one of those monsters harmed you in any way, I shall have their heads nailed upon our gate as warning!”

“Ah, yes, that would not incite a war in the least.”

Thor noted how venomous Loki looked; he didn’t even try to hide his anger, as he rounded into Thor’s space and allowed his ankle-length coat to trail the air behind him. The way his skin paled was alarming, at least when Thor considered how naturally pale he looked at the best of times, and Loki – unaware of how he looked – spun around to wave a hand at the people that laughed and yelled and conversed within the party.

“This is why I worry for our realm,” whispered Loki.

“You must tell me what happened, Loki.”

“Why don’t I _show_ you, Thor?” Loki smiled darkly. “I need to access the vault. It is there where a Jotun treasure is stored, one that should reveal to you everything I have discovered, and – should it reveal nothing – my mood will be lifted at once for the knowledge that I have been wrong in my assumptions. Your presence shall mean that I have a scapegoat; if we are caught, I will blame you and Father will not hesitate to believe me.”

“What makes you think I would agree to that? I am no fool, Brother. Those terms set me at a disadvantage; you know full well Father will discover that we were there, while I have no guarantee whatever you reveal shall be worth the effort and consequence.”

“I see it in your eyes. Your curiosity is killing you. You know any slight upon my person is a slight upon our realm, for I am as much its ambassador as you are, Thor. You want to know whether they cursed me, touched me, or harmed me. You want to know, as your blood is already boiling and your rage is taking over. You’ll follow me and you won’t regret it.”

Thor looked away in fury. It was hard to ignore the smirk on Loki’s face, especially when he stepped closer and leaned into his personal space, and quirked his head slightly to one side, as if to mock Thor or to confide in him. There was little way to know how to interpret his brother’s expression, but he knew that Loki was right. He felt the anger. The idea that one of the Jotun soldiers could have hurt Loki, perhaps irrevocably, caused his heart to race and his hands to clench, and Loki was using that rage to push him forward.

“I believe I regret this already,” said Thor.

The laughter from Loki was dangerous, but he stepped to the side to allow Thor full view of the party at large. He saw Sif – dressed beautifully in a far corner – look over to them, where she wore a sceptical look that spoke of her distrust of Loki, and he could understand that feeling very well. Loki would never act in a way that he felt unjust or unfair, but he could sometimes cross lines that he genuinely did not see, and there were times some were hurt.

“You look so miserable, Thor. Do you need me to kiss things better?”

“I appreciate your humour, Loki, but not at times like this.”

Thor made a mental count of all the guards around them, as well as the position of his friends, but it would likely take some excuses to part from them without a scene. They would need to stagger their exits, too, so as not to cause alarm or to cause suspicion, and Thor wondered whether they would be able to stage their trip into the vaults that same day. He drew in a deep breath and looked to Loki, who wore an impossibly innocent expression and stood with hands held behind his back, and Thor knew that this would be a bad decision.

“Very well,” said Thor. “Lead the way.”

“With pleasure, Brother.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

# Chapter Two

Thor glanced through the Vault.

There was nothing that seemed out of place; the relics and treasures were cast to their coves and shelves, while the walls were as cold and uninviting as they had ever been, and the only strange sight was that the guards had been dismissed. The silence within the Vault was quite daunting, so much so that Thor almost missed the sounds of the breathing men or faint shuffles of their footsteps, and he felt himself grow tense in anticipation of the worst.

The Casket of Ancient Winters stood at the far end of the Vault, where its blue interior cast a strange light about the room and stood enticing Thor to move closer. The frame to the casket was made well, with an interesting shape and beautiful patterns etched onto the sides, and the icy blue within moved in ways that could hypnotise a lesser man. It stood alone on a plinth. Thor looked carefully around, as a breeze caught the edge of his cloak, and the movement – although subtle – alerted him to something more insidious. Thor concentrated on the feeling.

“Show yourself,” he commanded.

He heard a noise – so soft that he could easily have dismissed it – that sounded like the creak of leather, and it came from the direction that the breeze had moved towards. Thor estimated measurements in his mind, allowing for the movements and time-lapse, and shot his hand toward the air before him. He caught something in his hand; the firmness of muscle and bone, but the soft texture of flesh and skin, and he flung them upon the wall behind him.

“This is not the time for games, Loki.”

Loki appeared slowly before him. The magic broke and his brother smirked back at him, although he looked down to see a dagger pressed just underneath his armpit. It was a frightening realisation; the point was aimed at a weak point between his armour, enough that it could slide easily into his chest and pierce a lung, and he tightened his hand upon Loki’s neck out of both fear and rage. Loki was brought upwards onto his tiptoes, while his head was forced back, and one jerk of Thor’s hand would easily break his neck.

“Stalemate?” Loki gasped.

“If this were a real fight, you would be dead,” said Thor.

“On the contrary, I would have stabbed you before you snapped my spine,” added Loki. “Of course, we can argue all day about who would have killed first, but – as neither of us are inclined to seriously injure the other on chance – we may never truly know. Put me down.”

It was not a request. Thor let go of Loki at the exact moment Loki removed his dagger, and the younger man adjusted the sleeves of his coat, almost as if he hadn’t been caught sneaking around the Vault by his older brother. These kinds of events were not uncommon, but it was the first time in a long time that Loki had been caught at a disadvantage, as usually he was the one to subdue Thor with ease. Loki rubbed at his neck with an amused expression.

He stood there rather elegantly; he possessed an innate ability to own a room, where he could simply stand there – with his smaller frame and height – and yet command more attention and respect than Thor could often manage. The way his face paled betrayed some of Loki’s true feelings, while he looked Thor up and down curiously, and then let his smile fade into something closer to a frown, enough to cause a spark of worry to exist within Thor. He loved his brother dearly. The younger man was beautiful and intelligent, but seeing him with such a concerned expression caused Thor to feel his chest ache. He needed to put things right.

Thor had no time to utter a word of consolation, as Loki already walked throughout the Vault. He leaned forward to look at the treasures with great interest, much like a man in a museum or gallery of sorts, and Thor could only trail cautiously behind him, as he looked around for someone or something to break the peace. This was a forbidden place, which meant that the Allfather would soon be alerted to their presence, and Thor kept a keen ear out for any sign that they had been uncovered. Loki merely moved closer to the casket, his eyes downcast.

“How did you escape your friends?” Loki asked.

“ _Our_ friends, Loki,” said Thor quietly. “I told them that I feared for you health and felt obliged to follow, but that will perhaps leave us with less time than we would otherwise have to ourselves. Sif will inevitably ask our mother after your health.”

“You lied to your friends?” Loki paused and added: “I’m impressed.”

“Save your pride for later. Why are we here?”

The frown on Loki’s face spoke of a great deal of pain; the younger prince clenched his fists and looked away from Thor, as if he were ashamed to look him in the eyes, and he stood directly behind the plinth with shoulders slumped. Loki kept his legs apart, while he clasped his hands behind his back, and he looked down at the casket with an unreadable expression, one that he rarely wore and Thor could not quite remember having seen before. It was difficult to see him in such a state, but worse to feel so powerless to help him.

“I have sent the guards away, Thor.”

“They are sworn to silence,” said Thor. “You know this.”

“Do I?” Loki let out a broken laugh. “You know as well as I that our father’s rule supersedes any orders of our own; they will tell him of our entry here, despite any commands to the contrary, just as they would speak of what they inevitably saw. I need you to make me a promise, Thor. I need you to swear to me one thing: do not hate me. I _vow_ to you that I can prove myself, that I can right this wrong, but I cannot do this if you hate me.”

“Loki, you are scaring me. You know that I would forgive you anything; there is nothing that you could do that would turn me against you, so long as you are willing to ask for forgiveness in turn. There are those that speak badly of you, but you have done nothing wrong. Tell me that you have done nothing wrong. Tell me, Loki. Tell me . . . what have you done?”

“It is not what I have done, but rather what has undone me.”

“Loki, please, tell me what has happened.”

Loki gave a weak smile, as he placed both hands upon the casket. The reaction was slow at first, so much so that Thor struggled to comprehend what he was seeing, but soon he realised that his brother’s eyes had turned a blood red. The whites were no longer white, although the irises were still distinct despite their almost matching shade, and they stood in stark contrast to a skin icy blue. It was a beautiful shade, but dark enough to drain the pink from his lips and the colour from his cheeks, and soon came the lines.

They were etched upon his face like any Jotun. It was almost subtle in places, almost like exaggerated age lines, but in other places there were clear patterns and designs. There were no horns. There was not the size or height of a regular Jotun. There was also no denying that was what he truly was, however; the touch of the cold broke whatever spell was cast over him, revealing his Jotun form and unique body, and Thor felt frozen on sight.

It also disturbed him to see.

Thor pursed his lips at the sight of Loki, as he tried to comprehend the strange blend of Asgardian and Jotun forms. There was something almost exotic about his brother; the shade of blue complemented him well, and Thor found himself looking at Loki in a new light. He had never much cause to examine his brother physically, aside from shared baths and changing in each other’s company growing up, but this was different. He felt curious about what other changes and differences lay between them. Loki broke him from his thoughts:

“Do you see now, Thor?”

The words were soft and broken. They jolted him back to full awareness, where he saw Loki had let go of the casket and stepped away from the plinth, and suddenly the exotic Jotun man was replaced with the familiarity of his brother. It was difficult to process. Thor tried to quell the confusion by reminding himself that – whatever he felt – Loki felt far worse; there were questions about what this meant, as well as what it could mean for them.

“This is impossible,” said Thor. “It’s one of your tricks.”

“Ah, how amazing it is,” whispered Loki. “My magic is lauded and celebrated by you as a great talent and a display of skill, but only when it suits you and aids you in some way. Now you deride it as a trick? Tell me, Thor, what would I get from such a ‘trick’?”

Loki’s eyes slowly drifted back to their former blue, but there were unshed tears and his lips were pursed and plump. Thor detected a tremble to his lip, as well as a reddening to his cheeks, and he looked so pleadingly to Thor . . . he was begging him silently for some answer, some reaction to validate or contradict all his felt . . . he was looking for a lead in what he should feel and why he should feel it. He was vulnerable. He was close to breaking.

“It must be a trick,” continued Thor. “Why would you become this – this -?”

“Monster?” A tear trailed his cheek. “Aye, that’s right, a monster!”

“No! No, you are not a monster. You are my brother, Loki; I don’t know why you have this form, but I know that we were raised together and played together. You were the one that guided me and looked out for me, just as you were the one that I watched grow and mature, and I have loved you so much . . . _more than you’ll ever know_ . . . I cannot believe that you could be anything other than an Asgardian! There has to be an explanation!”

“The only explanation is that Father _lied_ , Thor! He – he lied! He stole more than a simple treasure that night; Laufey found great amusement in the truth, he abandoned a bastard child in a temple and Odin Borson claimed it as his own!” Loki began to weep in earnest. “I am nothing more than the monster that parents tell their child of at night! I am _nothing_!”

“You are not nothing, Loki. You are never ‘nothing’.”

“Don’t lie to me, too, Thor _Odinson_.”

Loki’s cheeks were stained with tears. He was red in the face, close to choking as he hunched over, and he was verging on close to hysterical. Thor slowly chanced a step towards him; he knew that Loki was close to breaking, while his loud sobbing was heart breaking, and Loki was at once pacing back and forth behind the plinth. It made Thor’s heart race. He knew how loath Loki was to appear ‘weak’ before others, desperate to avoid the term ‘ergi’ due to his use of magic above fists, and this display would humiliate him in the aftermath.

“The truth -? The truth is that the choice of heir was made _long_ ago! Aye, we were both born to be kings, but only one of us could rule these people . . . _your_ people!” Loki began to laugh almost hysterically. “What a fool I was, Thor! All I ever wanted was to be your equal, but now I see that was impossible! He – he never loved me. I – I was nothing but a political pawn. No matter what, he could never have a Jotun sitting upon the throne of Asgard!”

“You are no Jotun, Loki! Those creatures thrive on destruction and pain. They were willing to wipe out an entire race, simply as they felt themselves superior, and – while you often attest yourself better than the mortals – I seriously doubt even you would stoop to genocide! They are monsters, yes, but you are better than that! You are my brother!”

“I am _not_ your brother! Have you not wondered why he took me? If it were mere pity for a dying infant, he could have given me to anyone in this kingdom! He sought to use me. It was possible I was meant to be a hostage, perhaps married off, maybe even an experiment . . .”

“If it were an experiment, it has succeeded. You are no monster.”

“Ah, then nurture rises over nature.”

Loki gave a sad smile, as he licked his lips to remove the tears. He seemed not to notice as Thor stepped forward, at least until Thor gently wrapped fingers around his brother’s neck and stroked his jaw with thumb, and Loki eased into the touch with a familiarity that caused both men to smile sincerely. The moment of intimacy calmed them both. It gave Loki enough time to slow his tears and swallow back his cries, as he looked pleadingly to Thor.

“If I destroy the Jotun race, it is possible –”

“No. Say no more, Loki.”

Thor moved his free hand to the other side of Loki’s face, where he cupped his cheeks tightly and pressed his forehead against his brother’s. The gesture was filled with love; he could feel Loki’s breath upon his lips, just as he felt the wet trail of tears upon his fingertips, and he wanted to almost cry in turn. There was a faint noise from afar, as if the guards were preparing to resume their positions, which was enough to cause Thor to let go of Loki and step back, as he prepared to try and coax his brother away from the Vault.

They stood silently for a long moment, until Thor wiped away the tears on Loki’s face and felt his brother frown in frustration. The gesture aged him considerably, as it showed lines that were otherwise absent, and he resembled their father in that instant, down to the smallest part of his expression. It was highly likely that they shared no blood, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t inherited something from their family. There was much he shared with Odin.

“You are better than they are, Loki,” said Thor.

“If I do not prove my loyalty to Father, he will always fear me,” begged Loki. “I can use the casket alongside the bridge, _prove_ to him that I am not like them and I want no part of them, and – with that – stop them from ever proving a threat to us again. You would rather live your life doubting my motives? You would rather -?” Loki bit his lip and shook his head. “You would rather live in fear that I may betray you to them?”

“Loki, you misunderstand our father. He took the casket only to prevent mass destruction; it was never his intent to subjugate or destroy the Jotun race, only to stop their atrocities and protect the people of Midgard. Please, Loki, let us adjourn to my rooms. We can talk about this, and then tomorrow you can ask our father for answers. Do not act now.”

“You have _seen_ what I am, Thor! I have visions of going ahead with my plans; if I could have postponed your coronation, perhaps I could have also pushed you away, and I would then have the time and trust to steal the casket and –! They need to pay, Thor. They must pay!”

“Pay for what, Loki? They have done us a blessing. They gave us _you_.”

“You are a naïve and sentimental fool.”

Thor saw the pain on his brother’s expression; he placed a hand upon Loki’s shoulder, which he held tightly and with no intent of letting him go, and – with slow movements – he guided Loki to walk with him, even as he listened to the fast breathing and choked sounds. It was clear Loki was close to hyperventilating, even as he strove to look as stoic as possible, and Thor could only hope that some time alone would lead to his brother calming down.

“Come, let us away. Tomorrow, we will discuss this.”

“There is nothing to discuss. I am a monster.”

“No, you are Loki, my brother.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

# Chapter Three

Thor watched in nervous silence.

It was difficult to hold his tongue; the rage he felt was as great as Loki’s, but his brother’s intent to destroy the Jotun race had put his actions into perspective, enough that he would not allow himself to cross that line again from anger into madness. He stood against the far wall, where he let his casual clothing wrap around him and protect him from the cold weather, and let his dark blue eyes watch as the scene unfolded. Loki paced with a seeming madness.

There was a great deal of grace to his brother’s movements. He still exuded a princely aura, even despite the truth of his heritage, and he had allowed his hair to fall naturally, as opposed to slicked back in its usual manner. The green coat hid the black clothing beneath, that hugged his body in an almost revealing manner, especially the trousers that seemed to show more than they hid, and the scowl upon his face gave him a dangerous edge. There were still tearstains upon his cheeks, along with a flush to his skin, and his lips were swollen.

The hall was bright that morning, enough that Loki was lit up from all sides, and the wide balcony along the right side gave a magnificent view of their realm. There were a vast array of people and buildings, all as unique as the last, while the skies above were so pure that they seemed almost to mock Loki’s pain. Thor pulled closer his outer cloak, although he caught the scent of Loki’s various perfumes upon it, and found himself far from comforted.

“Did – did you ever mean to tell me?”

Loki strode closer to their parents. Frigga stood elegantly beside a large basin of water, as she looked into it with a gentle gaze and a touch that barely made ripples onto its surface. There was a sense of magic in the air; it was likely that Frigga used the water to communicate to Loki in some way, and – indeed – the sight of her there calmed him greatly, which sent a small spark of jealousy alight within Thor. He always envied how close they both were, even if they were so completely unlike. They seemed to understand one another.

Odin – in comparison to his wife and eldest son – had chosen to dress in formalwear. He stood out much like Loki did, both of them standing and pacing in partial armour and with weapons, and the distance between them never seemed so great. There was something almost confrontational about the two of them, especially when ‘talking’ descended very quickly into shouting and cruel accusations. There was little real communication between the two men, as each only heard what they wanted to hear, and each only wanted to be heard in turn, so that neither truly listened and both often spoke over one another.

“I did not mean for you to find out this way,” said Odin.

“You didn’t mean for me to find out at all!” Loki turned to face him. “You _stole_ me from those people! You _forced_ this form onto me! I want to know why. I want to know what purpose it served to take a bastard child and raise it as your own . . . did you have any reason to allow this cuckoo in your nest, aside from foolish short-sightedness?”

“Do not dare to disrespect me, Loki. Your only birthright was to die there in that cold place, but I rescued you and pulled you back into life itself! I do not ask for gratitude, but I do ask that you do not curse me for your existence! Your life has been a good one, Loki.”

“My life? What do you know about my life? My life has been spent trying to please you! I have tried to prove my skills as worthy as Thor’s, tried to prove my magic as worthy as yours, and I have tried to prove myself a ruler you could trust to rule. I have done everything you have ever asked and so much more! I have ignored the slurs from those that consider magic beneath mere physical combat, the fact that you never truly loved me –”

“Loki, enough,” said Thor.

He looked across the hall to his brother. There was something ironic and hypocritical about his brother’s speech, as he could proclaim the injustice of his skills being slighted and then insult the ‘mere’ skills of others in a single breath, and this was something he inherited from their father. Odin, too, could insult the ‘monsters’ of the Jotun race and then proclaim his son to somehow be above them, and he was perhaps as hotheaded as Loki. The two would soon come to heads, should they feel insulted by the other. Thor stepped forward.

“Our rivalry must come to an end,” said Thor firmly. “I will not deny that I have found it easier to bond with our father, but that does not mean our mother loves me any less. It is the same for you. Any competition you perceived was in your mind.”

“I could not let you die out there, Loki,” continued Odin. “I brought you to our realm out of pity, but I kept you in our family out of love. What good has it done to know of your heritage? Are you any happier now than you were yesterday? I gave your life meaning when all you had was _nothing_. What gratitude do you show for this?”

“Here I thought you didn’t ask for gratitude,” said Loki coldly. “I should be grateful to you for life? It would have been better had you left me to die. I love Thor more than you ever could know, just as I love this realm, but it is for these reasons that I despair that you would put someone so arrogant and reckless upon the throne. Is this what Asgard needs from its king? It already suffered through one dangerous monarch, would you give upon it another?”

Loki looked rapidly from person to person. The guards stood silently at each corner of the hall, along with those on either side of each door, and their presence – although familiar and natural – somehow felt stifling to any real discourse. Thor chanced a few more steps forward, as he held his cape close to his chest, before he looked across to his mother and saw the sorrow writ across her features. The way she touched the basin was soft and gentle, enough that he wondered what she saw reflected upon the water’s surface, but Loki – unable to control his fury – spoke quickly and disturbed Thor’s train of thought.

“Why – _why_ – did you take me, Odin Borson?” Loki questioned. “Did you think that you could insinuate me onto the throne of Jotunheim, perhaps win yourself an ally and control the Jotun race through your obedient son? Ah, or perhaps you sought to provide an alliance another way, by breeding or marrying me to someone of status and wealth in this realm? I half-expect you to have revealed me some time after Thor’s coronation as ‘proof’ a Jotun can be anything other than a monster? Why take me? Why pity a disgusting creature?”

“Do not presume to know my feelings, Loki!” Odin cried. “If you wish to make yourself the victim, you will be treated as a victim! Do you wish to be known as Laufeyson? Do you wish for me to cast you into the dungeons or into exile? You forget that you would have allowed into our realm those that would do us harm; Thor’s coronation may have been stalled, but what damage would have been done to the realm you claim to love?”

Odin slammed his staff upon the floor. The sound echoed throughout the hall, enough to that Thor winced, and Loki – seemingly awoken to some feeling of shame – looked away with a paling of his cheeks. It was clear that Loki was close to breaking, especially when his plans for Thor’s coronation were a sore point; he believed his planned actions were for the good of their people. There was admittedly a risk there. It was pride alone that made Loki believe he could control the Jotun people, sabotage the coronation while keeping their people safe . . .

There was a soft sound from Frigga, who waved her hand over the water. It was hard to judge her reaction, especially given her stoic façade, but she eventually swept her way across the hall to where Loki stood. The grace in her was undeniable, as her blonde locks cascaded downwards and her smile warmed her cheeks, and it was almost impossible to believe that this same woman was the one that taught Loki how to fight and cast magic.

“Loki, speak your mind to me,” said Frigga.

“I love you dearly,” replied Loki. “I would do anything you would ask, but you would have me speak truthfully to you? I am this – this _monster_ , but you expect me to accept it as if it is nothing more than a simple matter of fact! I hate you both for this. Odin is no father of mine.”

“Then am I no longer your mother, Loki?”

Frigga reached out to touch Loki’s cheek; he moved into the touch with eyes closed, while his expression became serene and free from any imperfections, and Frigga cast her light-coloured eyes upon him with a nervous smile. Odin stepped back with a lowering of his head, as he allowed his wife some space out of respect, while Thor instinctively moved closer out of knowledge that Loki would rather destroy everything dear to him than ever lose face, and to admit their mother had a point would lose him said face.

“No, you are not my mother,” whispered Loki.

To her credit, Frigga did not immediately let go. The way she held tighter spoke a great deal about her devotion to her children, while she leaned in to place a kiss upon his forehead, and then left him to be by her husband’s side. Odin wore a look that was angry in the extreme, so that the wrinkles on his face deepened and increased with the intensity of his emotion, and Thor – desperate to protect his brother – went straight to his side and pleaded with him.

“Loki, follow your advice to me,” said Thor. “Think before you speak.”

“I have thought long and hard throughout the night; I have shed enough tears for this condition, I have cursed until my throat was raw for this disease, and I want no more of any of it. I will prove my worth, even if I must kill or die to do so.”

“It has been a long time that I have considered exiling Thor for his temperamental condition,” said Odin sadly. “You have always been his weakness and strength; in learning of your heritage, he has found enough self-control to rein you in and put others before himself. You would do well to learn from him. If you are determined to reject your Asgardian family, it may be better suited for you to enter an exile of your own making . . . Loki Laufeyson.”

Odin moved forward. He reached out to Loki; the movement was so quick that Thor barely had time to register it, while the touch was less familial and more distant, so that he looked almost aggressive in his movements. The old hand pressed itself against Loki’s forehead, where it struck with such force that Loki was jolted backwards a few steps, and Thor – unfamiliar to magic – sensed something that may well have been a spell. Odin moved with regal and confident steps back to where he stood, while Loki regained his balance.

The change was subtle at first.

Thor looked to his brother, as he stood tall and tried to appear unshaken, and noticed the small changes that began to creep onto his features. Loki’s skin began to grow blue where he was touched; it spread slowly at first, until his eyes became a violent shade of red and the etchings upon his skin became clear, and soon he stood as the beautiful and exotic creature that Thor had glimpsed the previous day. He was in his Jotun form.

It stole Thor’s breath for a moment, as he forced himself to look away. Loki noticed his reaction, enough that he stepped forward in an attempt to force his attention, but then appeared to catch sight of his hand paused midair. The blue skin caused him to freeze. Loki raised both hands before his face, as he looked at them with an expression of absolute horror, and he began to hyperventilate when he chanced a glance to the guards and saw them avert their gazes in a mixture of disgust and discomfort. Loki shook his head violently.

“What have you done?”

“I will restore your Asgardian form once you prove your worth,” said Odin. “You are – and always will be – my son. It is my duty as a father to teach you right from wrong; when you learn that race is a circumstance of birth, that it is the family you make that matter over those whom to which you were born, perhaps then will your shell match your soul.”

“You cannot leave me in this – this – this _guise_!” Loki rounded upon Odin. “You would have the world know what I am? You would see me lose the respect of my people, the love of my friends, or the kindness of my family? This is cruelty in the extreme!”

“You are Loki Laufeyson, are you not? I see no ‘guise’ here.”

“And if I never ‘prove’ myself to you?”

Odin said nothing. He simply turned and walked out of the hall, where Loki was left without an answer to his lingering question, and Frigga – with a great deal of sympathy – walked over to him and placed a hand briefly to his cheek. There was a momentary wince from the cold that came with the touch, but she allowed her features to be schooled into a reassuring smile. The tears that flowed down Loki’s cheeks were heartbreaking to see, and Thor wanted nothing more than to talk to his brother alone, but Frigga spoke in his place.

“I know you can prove yourself, Loki,” whispered Frigga.

“I am not the boy you once knew,” said Loki.

“Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself.” She touched his cheek with a smile. “I may not have borne you, but the ties that bind us are stronger than blood. Trust me when I say that there is always a purpose to everything your father does.”

Frigga let go of Loki and walked away with a sad smile, one that broke Thor’s heart to see and reminded him of what was truly at stake with his brother’s actions, and – with slow and steady movements – she followed her husband’s footsteps and exited the hall. It took Loki only a second to round upon Thor; the tears in his eyes glimmered red, while his expression looked almost alien upon his new skin, and Thor was forced to swallow hard at the sight.

“What about you, Thor? Will you leave, too?”

“I will never leave you, Loki. You are my brother.” Thor stepped forward. “Come, let us away to my rooms. You may have my cloak; no one need see your form until you allow them, until then it can be our secret alone. It will be better in the morning.”

Thor slipped off his cloak and allowed it to drape over Loki’s shoulders, where it suddenly seemed far too large for his new frame, and Loki clung to it like a second skin. He allowed one arm to fall over his brother’s shoulder, while the other held tightly to Loki’s arm, and the younger man practically bent himself in two and allowed the hood to cover his face. There was something devastating about seeing Loki broken by his real identity.

Loki no longer looked like the brother he once knew.

He swore to help him in his suffering.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

# Chapter Four

“Thor, please, is all well?”

Thor turned to see Lady Sif before his doors. It was possible that she had spent her time since the party in wait for him, especially when he observed how tired she looked and how the worry was evident in her expression. He admired her for a brief moment; it was true that she was an attractive woman, even in semi-formal wear and with loose hair, and the way her black locks fell down over her shoulder only drew further attention to her body. It was something she usually hid beneath armour, but today she chose a more feminine outfit.

The guards that lined the corridor remained silent, while Loki kept his head low and buried his hands into the cloak, and – overall – there was a tension in the air that came with the quiet, so that a heavy expectation fell on Thor to say something of value. He let his hand fall to the small of Loki’s back, as he thought best what to say to one of his closest friends, but Loki took the opportunity to slip past Sif and entered into Thor’s rooms with barely a sound.

Sif cast a brief glance to him, followed by a second look as the door closed behind him and she seemingly caught sight of his hand, and then ignored the strange occurrence to focus her full attention upon Thor. It was clear that she dismissed whatever she believed she saw, perhaps as a trick of the light or her eyes being strained, and she all but ran to Thor’s side, where she looked up at him with clear expectation. He gently held her by the upper arm and pulled her to one side, where her expression became more quizzical in the soft light.

“There has been a disagreement,” said Thor.

“I assume this has something to do with the Vault,” replied Sif.

Thor felt his heart race at the idea that she may already know, especially when he thought to how fragile his brother was in such a state and how he would want no one to know the truth about his condition. In Asgardian form he could have believed that nothing had changed, but in Jotun form he was forced to confront the harsh reality, and – more than that – he was forced to _live_ as the monster he believed himself to be. Loki could not repress that.

“You know about the Vault?” Thor asked.

“Only that Loki tempted you into breaking inside,” admitted Sif. “The Allfather ended the celebrations and called for everyone to return home, but I lingered with Hogun in case he had any need of us. No one will say what happened. I’m worried, Thor.”

“Loki uncovered a secret regarding the Jotun leader, but I am not in a position to unveil it at present. My brother is unwell; our father has set a harsh punishment upon him, for his methods of discovering such a secret were wrong in the extreme, and this has exhausted him further. I shall tell you more tomorrow, but for now I ask for privacy.”

“You know that you can trust us with anything, don’t you?”

“I know and I thank you, but just for this night -?”

Thor gave her as warm a smile as he could muster. It did little to ease her worry, but she did draw in a deep breath and stood tall. There was no mistaking her as a warrior; despite the silvery and layered dress, despite the loose hair and painted face, she was strong and independent and highly intelligent. Thor knew that she was unlike any other woman, and that was why she made such a fearsome friend and ally, and he prayed she would understand.

“Very well, send Loki my best,” said Sif kindly.

There was a narrowing to her eyes that spoke of scepticism, but she respected Thor too much to press the issue and walked casually along the corridor to the main doors. It was possible that she would spend the evening drinking with Fandral or eating with Hogun, but it was more likely that she would seek out Frigga for answers or spend her time locked within the libraries, and it was possible she would uncover everything by the morning. He could see why Odin pushed for Thor to choose her as a mate, but he could not force attraction.

Thor opened the doors to his rooms.

He saw Loki stand in the archway to the balcony; Thor had been promised a new set of rooms for his coronation, but – until then – he was happy to be within rooms familiar to him, especially when Loki would need familiarity at such a time. There were several steps leading up to the balcony, where the curtains blew out with the breeze, and the view across Asgard was beyond beautiful and most serene. Thor made his way across the room to Loki.

There was a low-level table centre to the room, with a _chaise longue_ off to the side, and several doors about the room that led to the bedroom proper, the dressing room, and the sitting room accordingly. The doors were all wide open. It was clear that Loki had thrown open the doors on his way to the balcony, likely with his magic as they were too high and heavy to open without some assistance, and it was as if he sought for as much space as possible. There was little doubt he felt claustrophobic in his new form.

“Loki, you will catch cold so late at night,” warned Thor.

The laugh from Loki was hollow, as he kept his eyes locked upon the scenery. Thor came and stood beside him; he had thrown back the cape, which revealed his face and hair perfectly, but his red eyes were heavy-lidded and filmed with tears. It caused an anger to rise in Thor that he could barely restrain, so that he felt the urge to break something or to scream, but he had sworn to change as Loki had changed, and he would keep his self-control for as long as Loki needed him to be the strong one of the two. Thor reached out to touch his brother’s cheek, but Loki pulled away and swallowed hard.

“It does not feel warm to you?” Loki asked.

“No, there is a strong breeze tonight,” replied Thor. “Heimdall always claimed that I was resilient for an Asgardian, more so then you or Sif, but I must admit that tonight I feel the chill more than I expected. It must be so much worse for you and the others.”

“Aye, that should be the case, but I feel _warm_ , Thor. I feel like I could throw off my clothing and sink into a cool bath, but there is no way that I can bear to look at myself in this form . . . not tonight, at least. The heat is uncomfortable, but nothing that I cannot endure. Laufey assured me his men could withstand our climate, should I have gone ahead with what Father claims would have been ‘high treason’, so this temperature cannot be fatal.”

“It is possible that you’re only half-Jotun, Loki,” said Thor sympathetically. “You are smaller than most, while you have features of an Asgardian . . . outer ears, nipples, hair . . . I do not proclaim to know much about magic, but it seems strange that it could change your basic biology and not merely the colour of your skin. Do you think that -?”

“Does it matter, Brother? Even a drop of Jotun blood leaves the waters of my race impure; I am nothing but a monster . . . a Frost Giant. I suppose I can now learn their magic, but I can never unlearn what I have lost by becoming this thing. I should have died that day.”

“Do not say that again, Loki. _Never_ say that to me!”

“You know it to be true.”

Loki made to turn away, but Thor grabbed a hold of his wrist. The touch was cold, albeit in a strange way that was hard to describe; there was a cool feeling to his skin, almost like ice wrapped in a cloth or snow through gloved hands, but it was not painful or dangerous. It was almost like a comfort, like a cool bath on a warm day. Any discomfort was minimal. Thor looked up at his brother’s eyes, where he saw unshed tears and a purse to Loki’s lips, and he let go of Loki’s hand immediately. He instead reached out to hold his neck.

“Is Asgard is safe for you physically?” Thor asked.

There was a low sigh from Loki. He slipped from Thor’s touch and moved through the soft netting of the curtains, where he walked down the steps with a heavy sense of resolution, but stopped just short of the doors to Thor’s private bedchamber. Thor followed, fascinated by how Loki could still remain the same soul and yet look so different, and – even though his mannerisms remained the same – something exotic clung to him.

“It may be uncomfortable, now my Jotun side is not repressed,” said Loki. “It should not be fatal or dangerous to me, however. If the Allfather will not forgive me or take mercy, I may have to adjust my quarters accordingly . . . unless I think of something in the meantime.”

“If you are uncomfortable, I suggest you remove your many layers.”

“You always were one to criticise my fashion.”

Thor smiled warmly, while Loki removed the outer cloak and dropped it to the floor. He appeared uncomfortable; he pulled at the collar of his coat, while he kept legs apart and made a point of not letting his arms fall against his body, and he breathed with an open mouth. Thor took the liberty of helping Loki out of his coat, although he paid more respect than his brother paid to his cloak, and placed it carefully upon the nearby _chaise longue_. Loki pushed a hand through his hair, which stayed partially in place due to the heavy sweat upon his skin.

“You do not wish to see me in this form,” added Loki.

“Do not presume to know how I feel,” teased Thor.

Loki gave a nervous smile. He climbed the steps into the bedchamber, while he began to loosen his clothing and remove the outer layers, and Thor – knowing how his brother treasured privacy – fought back an urge to watch. It was difficult; they had changed in each other’s company before, but it was always with the explicit knowledge that it was for practicality and not for observation, and there Loki now stood nude in his new form.

There was no denying how beautiful he looked; Thor turned on a mere glimpse of Loki, which turned quickly into an outright stare, while he realised that this form suited his brother far better than his Asgardian form. It made him appear slighter, but somehow it highlighted how firm his muscles were and how his skin was kept so well, and there was a sharp curve to his buttocks that was enough to cause Thor to feel his mouth water. He never paid much attention to the male form, but Loki was always an exception . . . more so now.

“I thought you had repressed these feelings,” said Loki.

Thor saw the dark look in Loki’s eyes. It was difficult to interpret, a mixture of shame and fear, and Thor stepped back away from the steps to make it clear he would cross no boundaries. He felt the arousal and realised Loki must have seen it, and so he angled his body away to hide the most shameful part of himself. There was a dangerous laugh from Loki, who quickly snatched a dressing robe from Thor’s bed and covered himself with the red silk.

“I told you that I would not act on this,” replied Thor gently. “You may think me unworthy and volatile, but I have enough self-control not to risk our reputations. I also know that your curiosity was only about the physical, you did not feel what I felt . . .”

“There is a word for what you felt, Thor: incestual. I could not allow myself to explore feelings that were immoral and illegal, especially when our realm needed a prince that it could trust and aspire towards, but now that we are no longer brothers -?” Loki winced. “I thought my feelings would change, but they do not. I still feel fear. My form cannot change the fact that we grew together, learned together, and bonded together.”

“You mean that you still see me as your brother? Mother was right. Even though you would deny us all, you truly know that you are a part of this family. I know that nothing has changed, that this is still just as forbidden as it has been for all these centuries, but you look so unlike what you once did . . . I can almost fool myself into believing you a stranger.”

“Father despises me as things stand.” Loki looked to him pleadingly. “We risked everything before with mere touches and glances, but to go further now would risk my life. It is not you he would blame, but myself for tempting you and corrupting you.”

“Then we will not go further,” said Thor. “I will not risk losing you.”

Loki spun around and walked to the doorway. He looked down the few steps to Thor, who was forced to crane his neck upwards, and the tears of pain were replaced by scowls of frustration. The robe was loose about his chest, where it revealed muscle built from years of exercise and training, but leanness uncommon amongst their family, which was now explained by the vast expanse of blue and the many patterns common to the Jotun race. Loki let out a hiss of breath, as he closed his eyes in anger and asked coldly:

“Will you always do anything that I ask?”

Thor smiled and climbed the steps to stand beside Loki, who rolled his eyes and marched into the bedchamber and sat upon the edge of the bed. They had never before shared a bed in such a state of undress, too afraid of temptation or confirming what they already felt, but Loki said nothing of the situation and Thor did not wish to be the one to mention it. He simply began removing his armour, while Loki focussed upon some invisible spot on the floor.

“Aye, I would do anything you ask,” said Thor. “You are my one weakness.”

“You must know that I will betray you,” replied Loki. “If you would still trust me after that, you must be truly desperate for validation and starved for love. I would hurt you, break you, and even _ruin_ you, but through it all you still lay your faith in me.”

“You would own me. You would destroy me. You would not kill me, Loki.”

“Thor, ever the masochist! There is so much worse than death.”

Thor laughed aloud as the last piece of clothing fell away, leaving him only in his undergarments that did little to hide his modesty, and walked over to stand before Loki. The younger man looked up at him with hands clenched into fists, which nearly tore at the sheets, and eyes that were finally overcome by tears . . . they trailed down his cheeks, fell upon his lips, and marred his otherwise perfect beauty. Thor placed one knee beside him and leaned into his personal space, as he held Loki’s face between his hands.

“Our father indeed stole Jotunheim’s greatest treasure.”

He broke the last inch between them with a kiss. It was soft at first, perhaps even chaste, but soon the centuries of repression boiled through and Loki began to react. The kisses became clumsy, while the taste of tears tainted it slightly, but soon Loki was flat against the bed with his arms wrapped around Thor’s neck, and Thor felt the tongue of the other. There was no holding back once the kiss was deepened. Thor pulled them centre of the bed, as he passionately kissed his brother and pulled open the robe. Loki did not object.

They remained locked in the kiss for some time, enough that Thor felt like a youth once more, as if he were lost in the first ever passions and loves of life, and he lost track of both time and sense. He kept his hands fixed firmly on Loki’s hips, unwilling to explore further when Loki was acting only out of anger and sorrow, but soon his brother flipped them over and sat astride him. The blue skin looked darker, while there was a sweat upon him.

It was possible that being beneath Thor – trapped between inhumanly large muscles and thick blankets – was too much for his new form to bear, but Thor could also see that he was silently weeping through an ethereally beautiful smile. He looked caught between pain and pleasure. This was the very thing that they had always denied themselves, but it came at a time when Loki reassessed both his own identity and his relation to his family, and he likely only sought something physical to ‘prove’ the familial relationship between them was severed.

“Do you see my form?” Loki asked. “Do you not realise what I am?”

“You are Loki Odinson when you wish to be Loki Odinson,” said Thor. “You are Loki Laufeyson when you wish to be Loki Laufeyson. I may not be able to trust your trickster nature, but I trust your love in mother and me that you will always be ‘Loki’ to us.”

“Damn you, Thor.” Loki laughed through his tears. “Make me forget.”

“Make you forget what, Loki? Tell me.”

Loki shook his head and placed a kiss on Thor’s lips. It was a cool touch, but that somehow only made it more erotic and intimate, and Thor – unable to hold back – pushed the robe down until it was fully removed, before he threw it across the room. Loki cast an illusion almost at once; he was again pale-skinned and blue-eyed, although this time with cheeks and chest flushed red, and Thor felt tears of his own that Loki felt a need to hide. Loki would not be able to maintain the illusion; it would cost energy and require concentration.

“Make me forget that I am Loki,” whispered Loki.

“No,” said Thor. “I plan to say that name over and over, until it is all you remember and all that you know. You will remember that you are – and always will be – my brother. You may wear the skin of a Jotun, the clothes of an Asgardian, but you are something special . . .”

The skin was still cool, despite looking warm and smooth. It was not the spell cast by Odin, but rather a magic much akin to their mother’s, and it would not change his biology. Loki would still feel overwhelmed by heat should he be underneath Thor, while he would likely use the act to ‘validate’ his worst fears about being _argr_ and no longer a part of their family, and Thor realised that he would be taking advantage. He sighed deeply, as he rolled Loki onto his back and lowered himself beside him with some space between them.

“You are Loki,” said Thor. “You are my brother. That is why we should not do this now. You are hurt and you are broken . . . you merely want this physicality to provide a distraction, just as you want to use these actions to prove that you are somehow ‘wrong’ . . . an act of love should never be wrong, Loki. I will not touch you further, not while you would use it against me in the morn. I will not have you say that this act was anything but pure.”

“Ah, how noble you are, Thor,” snapped Loki. “You would kiss me and strip me, but you will not take me? What manner of man are you? Oh . . . perhaps it is that you are no man at all? I see, perhaps it is _I_ that should take _you_. The Allfather would be greatly shamed by that, would he not? The great and mighty Thor reduced to an _ergi_ by a Jotun.”

“You will not tempt me into taking you, especially with anger and with force. I would see you hurt even less than I would see you sorrowful; seek a guard’s company should you wish to be abused, swear him to secrecy, but do not expect it from me.”

“You said you would do anything for me, Thor.”

Thor rolled onto his side and underneath the blankets. He felt an intense rage that Loki would use him for some sort of cathartic release, at least when that release was designed to be self-punishing and not a reassurance of love, but he knew his brother well enough to know the younger prince would rather harm himself than admit to being harmed by another. Loki felt abandoned by his family, and so he would do everything he could do distance himself from them in an attempt to put the ‘abandonment’ upon his own terms.

It took only a moment for Loki to move behind him, as his lips began to work upon Thor’s neck and his hand slowly trailed beneath the sheets. Thor held his breath; he felt fingertips just below the head of his leaking erection, cool against the hot skin, and all Loki needed was to turn his hand and hold what was within reach. There came no such touch. Loki instead bit hard upon his neck and sucked wildly, until he pulled away and climbed off the bed.

“Consider that a . . . reminder,” spat Loki.

The younger prince gathered his clothing, occasionally the sound of a sob emitted from him, and Thor caught occasionally glimpses of blue from the corner of his eye, as he realised the illusion was fading fast under the strain. Thor then sat up, as he watched Loki rush to dress, although he winced at a turn of his neck and realised the bruise was deep.

“Loki, I beg you to stay. Let us talk about this.”

“I have things to do, Thor _Odinson_.”

Loki immediately left.

 


	5. Chapter 5

# Chapter Five

“Tell me where is Loki!”

Thor threw shut the doors behind him. The gesture was violent; it sent a rough breeze throughout the air, while the sound of doors slamming hurt his ears, and he was well aware that he held the full attention of the room. There was little food left so late into the morning, but Volstagg consumed what food was there in great humour. It was strange to see him pause with hand midair, however, but the leg of lamb hung there in front of his open mouth.

There was little that Thor could do except to pace, as he ran a hand through his hair and gripped tightly enough that the pain grounded him. Hogun stood off to one side, while Fandral and Sif sat together not far away in a conversation of their own making, but that conversation came to a stop as Thor stomped loudly across the tiles. He felt his heart race in his chest; the fear he felt was more than anything ever felt in battle, like a cold wash of water over his skin, and he wanted to scream until his voice ran sore. The sun outside was high for the time of day, enough that it blinded him when it reflected from the plates.

Thor looked and could see Loki nowhere.

He marched over to the tables, where he leaned down somewhere between Volstagg and Sif, and rested upon his knuckles with his head low. There was little sound except for his heavy breathing; he heard his pulse within his ears, just as he heard Hogun and Fandral move around the tables to stand close to him, and – from afar – were the sounds of servants scurrying back and forth to hide out of sight. It would be lunchtime soon, which meant the former meal needed to be cleared to make room for the new. Thor bit his lip hard.

“Where is my brother?”

“He didn’t appear for breakfast,” said Hogun.

The older man picked at a grape from the table, before he moved back into the shadows. There was a sound from Volstagg almost like a laugh, but perhaps closer to a scoff, and meanwhile Sif rolled her eyes and watched the scene unfold with a morbid curiosity, and Thor – feeling his muscles ache with tension – wondered whether they realised how severe the situation currently stood. He looked to Fandral, who bounced an apple within his palm.

“I did run into him this morning,” added Fandral.

“You did?” Thor looked up with wide eyes. “Did he look himself?”

“How else would he look?” Fandral laughed warmly. “He said he was in a hurry to speak with Heimdall, but then left before I could say a further word. I will also add that it looked like he had taken your cloak . . . the red one with the fur trim?”

Thor let out a piercing cry, as he took a hold of the nearest mug. He threw it with such force that it smashed high upon a nearby pillar, before the pieces of it shattered and rained down over the tiles below, and he felt himself draw in heavy and fast breaths. There was a cold silence in the air. No one dared to speak, as he began to pace yet again and felt his palms ache with the pressure of his nails deep into his skin. Volstagg stood to protect the others.

The tension was heavy in the air, enough that Thor felt hyper-alert to all sounds. The rage and fear boiled inside him, while his thoughts turned to Loki and how his actions had pointed only to one thing: he had gone to Jotunheim. Thor turned with a howling cry. He grabbed the table nearest to him and flipped it over with great force; there came an impossibly loud noise as plates and cutlery shattered to the ground, while leftover meats and juices scattered about and stained the tiles. Thor stood absently, as he gazed down at the mess, and felt unable to breathe. He heard Volstagg step over the debris, as he raised his hands nervously.

“Thor, my friend, what is this about?”

“My brother learnt that he was adopted,” said Thor coldly. “I had thought him mature enough to stay within my rooms, at least until we had a chance to talk about it properly, but instead he seems to have taken my winter clothes and gone to Heimdall. I have reason to believe that he has run away. We will find him at Jotunheim, I am sure of it.”

“Loki is adopted?” Sif asked. “I would not have guessed, but now I wonder why it never occurred to us before now. It explains so much. He never bore much resemblance to our king or queen, but I must ask . . . why Jotunheim? Do you think he plans mischief?”

“Mischief is one thing,” added Volstagg. “High treason is another thing entirely! I can say – for a hundred percent certainty – that all children are equal in the eyes of their parents. Loki may not look like his family, but he is family regardless of everything. He is a smart man and he knows this better than any of us. There is no way that he would risk mischief with our darkest enemies! He may be a trickster, but he is no villain!”

Thor turned his back upon his friends. He could not bear to look upon them, not when he knew he would have to betray Loki’s trust to convince them of his whereabouts. The air felt cold, abnormally so for such a sunny day, and Thor realised that he was by no means dressed for a descent into Jotunheim. There were a few whispered comments between Sif and Hogun, words that he couldn’t quite decipher and yet somehow slipped into his awareness, and he spun around to look upon them directly. He felt his eyes water with frustration.

“Loki learnt that he is a Jotun,” admitted Thor. “He is distraught.”

Their expressions said everything. Sif paled at once and her face tightened, while her hand clenched upon the sword at her waist, while Fandral began to pace much as Thor had, and seemed caught between disgust and fear. Only Hogun and Volstagg remained impassive to the news, although the frown upon Volstagg’s lips spoke of a deep sadness and grief, but even that soon passed when he drew himself to full height and smiled warmly.

“He will come around in time,” said Volstagg.

“For all we know, he’s betraying our realm’s secrets as we speak,” replied Sif.

“I will admit that it is suspicious,” said Fandral. “He learns that he is Jotun and you have reason to believe he has left for Jotunheim? I can believe that Loki was adopted, but he is a prince of Asgard and our friend . . . a Jotun? Loki is no _monster_ , Thor!”

“Aye, he is no monster, he is my brother,” said Thor coldly.

Thor took a step forward. He cast Fandral a cold stare, as his foot crunched against a stray shard of pottery, and he clenched his fists at the idea anyone could compare Loki to a monster, especially when his race was not representative of his person. Hogun came towards him and placed a hand briefly upon his shoulder; the touch was enough to ground him and distract him, as he turned to look at his friend, and Hogun – sensing his pain – nodded in acknowledgement and removed his hand. Thor let out a breath a long breath.

“Loki was raised as an Asgardian,” said Volstagg. “He is one of us.”

“Loki has also inherited the flaws of his parents,” replied Sif. “He is as quick to anger as the Allfather, but he has our queen’s ability to work unseen. True, he is our friend and has saved our lives on many occasions, but we cannot ignore that he is a dangerous individual when he sets his mind against a perceived enemy. Who is his enemy now?”

“Surely not us? Ah, Sif, you are far too cynical sometimes! None of you are yet parents, which may be a blessing considering how much of life you have yet to live, but I have given up so much for my children and would willingly give them everything else that I call mine. I do not claim to know how Loki must feel, but I know that we are not his enemy! He is merely confused; likely feeling abandoned by one parent, feeling inferior in relation to another.”

“He could be of equal threat to both the Allfather and Laufey,” said Hogun.

“That is not what I said,” said Volstagg coolly. “Loki has always been highly perceptive. Just listen to how we’re talking about him! If he could hear us right now, he probably wouldn’t even be surprised. It is no wonder that a man of his mind would run away.”

“Yes, but _where_ did he run?” Fandral asked.

Thor ran a hand over his face and neck, where he felt the beard rough against his fingers and the bruise sore on his skin, and he was reminded almost at once of Loki. He remembered past kisses where Loki would complain about Thor’s facial hair against his more delicate skin, while the love bite from the previous night only reminded him of what was lost, and he wondered whether his rejection of Loki was what drove him into leaving.

He began to walk over the remains of the table and food, as he headed towards the balcony with a sense of dread about what he was to reveal to his friends. The breeze was heavy from outside, enough to wake him to his senses, and he could see the entirety of his realm from the view before him. There was nothing unusual about the landscape, no signs that anything was out of the norm, and he almost cursed that the world could continue to work when he felt that his world had ended in fear. It would only be a matter of time before their father learned of Loki’s absence, also, by that time the matter would be out of Thor’s hands.

“He is in Jotun form,” said Thor.

There was a strange form of silence from his friends. He turned to see that Sif looked away in something close to shame, while Fandral whitened and stood open-mouthed, and Thor felt his body slump as a sensation of heaviness overcame him. They needed to know the truth in order to understand the full consequences of Loki’s actions, but the prejudice of their people weighted heavily in their mind, and it would take time to reconcile the man they knew with the Jotun they expected. Eventually Thor rounded his shoulders and drew in a deep breath.

“It was our father’s punishment for another crime of Loki’s,” continued Thor. “Loki appeared in deep denial when I spoke to him last night, even willing to cast an illusion of his old self and suffer under heavy layers of clothing. He will have gone to Jotunheim.”

“If that is the case, it is possible he has not committed treason,” said Sif. “He has always hated the Frost Giants, while it sounds that he refuses to accept his true nature, and I cannot see a man like that siding with the very creatures he would be happy to see destroyed. Our greatest worry should be whether he seeks to start a war.”

“He may have just sought answers,” said Hogun.

“It does not matter why he left for Jotunheim!” Thor shouted. “What matters is that he has gone and he could be in danger! We must leave at once for Heimdall; he will tell us exactly where Loki has gone, at which point we will follow him and bring him back to Asgard. We cannot risk a war, let alone attempted genocide by Loki on those people, and we also cannot risk harm falling upon Loki . . . I would rather die than see my brother hurt.”

Fandral cast a brief glance to Thor’s neck, where he narrowed his eyes and gave a subtle shake of his head, and Thor – for one of many times – sensed that Fandral perhaps knew what no one else knew or suspected. The other man looked between their group, where each and every one appeared lost in thought and determined in action, and finally gave a sigh and threw a hand in the air with an inevitable reluctance. He stepped forward and kicked at a loose apple, as he watched it roll across the floor and stop pathetically before a guard.

“So this is it? We’re going to Jotunheim?” Fandral asked.

“Aye, today we march to Jotunheim,” said Thor.

He looked between his friends.

“Let us go.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

# Chapter Six

Jotunheim lay cold and lifeless.

The darkness over the land made it difficult to see, but what he could see was enough to make him grateful for the realm that was Asgard. There seemed to be vast ruins hidden amongst the ice, so that the stray pillars and arches spoke of a civilisation far unlike what the lands currently held, while the snow blew in from all directions. The ice cracked underfoot, while the snow left behind their footprints as proof of their existence, and Thor stopped just short of the city itself. They would need to proceed carefully.

Sif climbed onto a ledge of ice, so that she could gain an advantageous view of their surroundings, but the sight of a figure decked in colour on an icy landscape would soon draw vast attention from those Jotun warriors that likely kept watch. Hogun and Fandral stood on his either side, with breath visible in the air; Volstagg crouched down to examine some strange markings etched onto an old stone, perhaps in a Jotun tongue.

Thor clenched his hand around the handle of Mjölnir, as he thought how much easier this would be had Loki been by his side. The ability to cast illusions was invaluable in battle, while his brother had an ability to fight from a distance with his throwing knives, and yet he was also competent at close combat, enough that no one need worry about him. There were so few battles where Loki did not participate in some way, even if that meant as a direct opponent or a mere observer, and Thor lamented his absence. He stepped forward and looked about the walls of the city and noted the lack of guards. They expected him.

“Do we have a plan?” Fandral asked.

Sif jumped down from her perch, where she landed with grace and strength beside them, and Volstagg stood at the same moment to join back in the conversation. The four of them listened to the silence for anything Thor had to say, but he let the silence drag on until he resolved himself to a course of action. He bounced the hammer in his hand and pointed to the front entrance itself, as he marched forward some feet and stopped to turn to face them.

“Loki may not be here, but it is time I heeded his advice,” said Thor.

“You should have listened to him more often,” admitted Sif. “I have gone with Loki many times through back and hidden entrances, and the element of surprise holds a certain advantage in battle, especially when our enemy can see us and expects us.”

“Yes, but it was _our_ attacks upon the front that provided you both with ample distraction, was it not?” Thor gave a dangerous smile. “It was chance alone that our separate paths led to the same place, but this time it shall be intentional. Sif, Fandral, I ask you both to search for my brother within Laufey’s palaces and dungeons. We will pay a direct visit to the king.”

Volstagg let out a bellowing laugh; it was both good humoured and held an echo of danger, as he heartily slapped a hand onto Thor’s back, and the sound brought them back to the reality around them. The whistling of the wind, followed by the occasional drip of water from ice, was unsettling and made the terrain feel all the more alien and dangerous. There was a shuffling sound from Fandral and Sif, as they quietly drew a ‘map’ in the snow, while Hogun stalked forward to mentally work out how to best use the terrain to their advantage.

“Why don’t we give you both a head start?” Volstagg suggested. “Let’s see if you can rescue our prince before we can confront their king. I will be willing to bet our next round of drinks that the three of us can achieve more than the two of you, especially when Loki is likely hiding somewhere ready to pounce the first chance he gets. You’ll need luck, my friends!”

“We have yet to find out why Loki has come to this realm,” said Thor. “Let us not make any assumptions. I love my brother dearly, but he has always used the truth to hide in plain sight that which he does not wish to be seen. We cannot guarantee his motivations.”

“Well, then it’s time to find out,” said Fandral. “Let’s get going.”

“Good luck, Thor,” said Sif.

Sif and Fandral disappeared almost at once, as Hogun began to march towards the city. Thor allowed himself to watch his two friends for a long moment, while he listened to the sounds all around him, before he followed and kept himself on high alert. He anticipated a battle; weapons were drawn and they moved with distance between them, so that Volstagg brought up the rear and Hogun led from the front. The wind lashed around them, throwing cloaks and clothing around quite wildly, and soon Sif and Fandral were lost out of sight.

It took less time than anticipated to enter the city, but even less to reach the palace. There were incredibly few Jotun about; on occasion Thor would spot one in the distance, which caused him to raise his hammer and growl, but Hogun would hold him back and shake his head. They could not attack unless attacked first. The very presence of Loki in these realms risked war as things stood, but an attack would be tantamount to an outright declaration.

He caught sight of a Jotun not far away; this was a man far taller than the average man of his race, with horns that curled upon the sides of his heads, and patterns etched deep into his skin so that they looked more brutish than beautiful. The man nodded to them and gestured for them to follow. There was something about his clothing – or what little was there – that led Thor to believe this man a man of the court, and so he kept quiet and close to his friends. There were far more Jotun within the palace proper, but not one spoke or acted in any way.

The tension grew thick. This would be the perfect place for an ambush; they were in an enclosed space with many Jotun men all around, as well as in an unfamiliar terrain and a harsh climate, and Thor knew the blood of his friends would be upon his hands. He led them here and he knew not what to expect, but – worst of all – no one knew they were here, thus no one would come to rescue them. Thor felt his heart begin to race, as his hand clenched painfully upon the hilt, and soon they were led into what appeared to be a throne room. It was open-roofed, with the throne perched high upon a balcony, and there sat Laufey.

“This was too easy,” whispered Hogun.

Laufey sat upon his throne. The seat itself looked made from some rare metal, but dripped with icicles from all corners, while the king sat somewhat slouched to the side and with legs wide apart. There was something about his position that spoke of Loki, until – that was – the king slouched forward to look down upon them. He wore nothing but a long cloth over his modesty and upper legs, while jewellery and partial armour obscured his joints from sight, and – even from such distance – Thor saw the jagged nature of his teeth behind the smile.

“You have come a long way to die, Asgardian,” said Laufey.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Thor asked. “I am Thor Odinson!”

“You are a boy that comes to seek out a war. Your father is a murderer and a thief, one that stole our greatest treasure and even one of our children, and yet you come here and speak in a falsely righteous tone. We are close to being beyond diplomacy. Speak carefully, _boy_.”

Thor made to step forward, as he attempted to raise his hammer. Volstagg caught him by his wrist, which he gripped so tightly that Thor was nearly forced to drop Mjölnir and let himself be viewed as a prince easily cowed, but luckily his friend held back from too much force. He looked to Volstagg and saw the larger man shake his head warningly, before he nodded his bearded face over to the sides. There were Jotun everywhere. They stood in the entrance of every door and archway, on either side of the balcony, and even in odd spaces to observe.

“We are outnumbered, Thor,” whispered Volstagg. “We are no good to Loki dead.”

There were too many to fight at once, which would mean a retreat. They would likely lose Sif and Fandral, along with any chance to diplomatically retrieve Loki, and war could even possibly result from a blatant breaking of their truce. Thor drew in a sharp breath. He dropped his hand by his side and felt his heart race within his chest, so much so that it was all he could hear and all that he felt. His mouth ran dry, while his skin felt cold.

“We believe one of our own may be within your realm,” said Thor.

“Indeed? We did find an intruder within our realms early this morning,” answered Laufey. “It was not long before we uncovered his true heritage; he was the one that would have showed us the way into Asgard, just as he was the one that dared to enter our fold, and he is the one that sort revenge upon me. You may gather well that his revenge failed. I hold it not against him, for – after all – it is what I would have done.”

“You know about Loki? You must tell me whether he is still here! I will not leave until I know that he is safe. Do not think that you can fool me with lies or half-truths, either. You will tell me whether he is here or whether he has left!”

“Ah, children are so demanding. Very well, if you insist.”

Laufey clicked his fingers. Two guards appeared from one side of the balcony, with which a chain dragged along a far smaller Jotun. It connected to an iron collar and shackles upon his wrists, while two chains ran from the wrists into the hands of the larger men, and the Jotun they dragged was soon thrown onto the ground beside Laufey. The chains were tied to the side of the throne, albeit in such a way that they made standing all but impossible.

The identity of the Jotun that knelt beside Laufey was clear: Loki.

He was still dressed in his Asgardian clothing, while Thor’s cape was draped over his shoulders, but the cold climate prevented him from overheating as he had done the night before in their rooms. The red eyes were alive with something barely recognisable, but they crinkled at the corners in a way that may have been a smile or a glare, and – as they met with Thor’s eyes – Thor saw the all too familiar smirk that was his brother’s.

It was clear that Loki held strong to his pride, but equally as clear that something had broken inside of him, and the conflict made Thor want to reach out to him. He felt a fury unlike any other to see his brother subjugated like a prisoner, treated with such disrespect, and he began to move from foot to foot as his breathing began to race. Laufey must have seen his reaction. The chain – that connected Loki’s throat to his wrists – was yanked hard, so that Loki was thrown onto all fours and lost his breath. Laufey let go with a smirk, while Loki choked.

“You _dare_ disrespect a prince of Asgard?” Thor asked.

“Ah, but he is no prince of Asgard,” said Laufey with a smile. “I had thought Odin had killed the bastard child, as it is what I would have done, but consider my surprise when it arrives at my doorstep with gifts that I would never have dreamed. He knows secret passages between many realms. He also has a close connection to Odin. Indeed, perhaps the wisest choice I ever made was to abandon the runt of the litter. It serves me well now.”

“ _Do not speak of him in such terms_! You have no claim to any prince of Asgard, as such you will relinquish him _now_. There is no other option here, Laufey! I do not know what you think to gain by Loki’s presence, but you will get nothing except war!”

“I think I will gain something much more than that.” Laufey leaned forward with a smirk. “Do you forget that this creature is my blood? I lay all rights to him. He was mine to cast out and mine to reclaim, more so when one considers that within his body runs the blood of a king, and this is likely why your father hid him from me. I cannot take what I do not know.”

There was an audible hiss of breath from Volstagg. Thor realised that he had hid this information from his friends, so that now Hogun took a visible step back and Volstagg’s jaw clenched with an unspoken anger. They would realise the danger; Loki could possibly betray them to his biological father, but equally to attempt to remove a prince from his rightful realm could instigate a war. Loki himself braced his full weight on both hands, as he leaned forward with a look of absolute shame. The revelation of his secret cowed him.

“If you want him, I propose a trade,” said Laufey.

“What do you want for him?” Hogun asked.

“The Casket of Ancient Winters.”

The silence fell heavily, as the three of them considered the proposal. Thor realised he had no right to bargain with such an item, which was something Laufey likely knew, and Hogun came by his side and placed a hand upon his shoulder. There was a sense of relief from the support of his friend, while Volstagg stood by his other side and whispered to him that they ought to tread carefully, but Loki was still chained to the throne. Thor let out a low growl.

There was no crueller sight than to see Loki too ashamed to make eye contact, while his smirk had been wiped from his face entirely, and those red eyes seemed to shimmer with unshed tears. He appeared almost broken. Sif and Fandral then burst onto the balcony; the reactions from everyone were instantaneous, so that Thor braced himself for battle and felt his adrenaline burst forth. The guards on the balcony froze only on the command of Laufey, while Sif and Fandral were held back only by Hogun’s command.

Loki pulled himself up into a sitting position. He appeared to sit upon his legs, but it was difficult to see by the way the ice on the edge of the balcony distorted the lower half of his body. Sif quickly marched up to Loki, with sword drawn and eyes darting around to the guards that were poised to attack, but she simply stood behind him and prepared for the word to release him. Fandral kept some distance and seemed to hold his breath.

“We could take Loki by force,” said Thor.

“The five of you alone?” Laufey laughed. “Your man and woman may have sneaked past my guards, but they would not turn the tide in a battle. They also would not break these chains. Is this creature truly worth a war? If so, go ahead . . . take him.”

Thor felt blood upon his hand. It trickled down from where the grip of Mjölnir dug into his flesh, along the handle and down the hammer itself, and finally dripped onto the ice below with a painfully rhythmic pattern. If Sif or Fandral moved to rescue Loki without Laufey’s permission, the guards on the balcony would accost them. If Laufey issued a command for his men to attack, it would be tantamount to a declaration of war on Asgard. The small drips of blood stained the ice and turned it a deep shade of red. Thor asked loudly:

“You say your claim takes precedence over mine?”

“I say that a parental tie trumps all else.”

“Aye? Even that of a spouse?” Thor pulled at the collar of his armour. “This mark here is one left by Loki. My father knew of Loki’s heritage from the start, as such he was groomed to become a mate and a partner. It was the Allfather’s hope that Loki would rule alongside me, thus providing a tie to Jotunheim, and he planned to reveal all at my coronation.”

‘ _Thor_ ,’ whispered Volstagg, ‘ _what are you doing? You can’t_ –’

‘ _My brother is not the only one to think fast on his feet.’_ Thor returned his attention to Laufey and continued: “It is not an adopted brother that you claim, but a royal prince consort. Loki Laufeyson has political immunity here. You cannot keep a prince consort prisoner, while the claim of spouse takes priority over that of a parent. Do you wish to bring all nine realms down upon you for this act of war and aggression? Will you truly disrespect our prince?”

Sif gave a smirk from where she stood. The likelihood was that she saw this as a ruse, one that would usually be emitted from the silver-tongued lie-smith before her, and so there she stood with legs apart and chin high, emitting a confidence befitting any warrior. The reaction from Fandral was far different, however; he looked upon the bruise and seemed overcome with disappointment and something close to disgust, and Thor looked away in shame.

Loki’s expression was one of sheer fury; he clenched his blue hands together into tight fists, while his red eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, and he looked only to Thor and to no one else, as his breath hitched and sped up considerably. Their feelings for one another – as well as inappropriate behaviour – were to be secret at all costs, but now there was a chance it would be uncovered by a well-meant lie would lead to the truth, especially when some already began to suspect. Loki likely knew this better than anyone.

The temperature fell colder than before. There was a heavy tension in the air, which made Thor wonder whether the Jotun guards had caused this change. He saw the breath in the air before him, while he desperately hoped that his friends would not look past the lie and re-examine his relationship with his brother, and he kept Loki’s eye contact and refused to break it. They were in this together. He would not leave without Loki.

“You lie,” said Laufey.

“If you wish for proof, you will get it,” said Thor coldly.

“Know this: I will not take this slight lightly. If you wish to play this game, you will learn that you are playing against an expert. You think you can prove your claim to him? Very well, then I shall take his assassination attempt as one done on behalf of Asgard. This is war.”

“Give us Loki. We can discuss the terms of war another time.”

“You will regret this,” said Laufey.

Laufey raised his hand to signal the guards. Thor thought an attack was imminent, but the men merely stepped back and lowered their weapons, which allowed Sif to attend to Loki and check his body for any injuries. There came a fast flurry of movement; Fandral was at once by Sif’s side, while Laufey reached down and used some power to undo the clasps of the chains, and at once Loki was being held by Sif quite kindly and protectively.

The three of them jumped down from the balcony; Thor ran straight to Loki and pulled him in a tight embrace, unable to let go for the longest of moments, and eventually pulled back with a sincere smile to see his brother pout with the hint of a smirk. He was frustrated with Thor, furious that he would reveal so much, and yet a part of him looked amused by the situation and relieved to be freed. Thor raised his hand and stroked his brother’s cheek, which felt dangerously cold in the current climate, and it was then that Laufey spoke:

“My men will see you out.”

They walked as a group out of the palace. Thor remained on high alert, as he kept a hold of his brother and forced him close, and the Jotun guards kept their distance despite having them virtually surrounded. They could not be heard from where they walked, but Thor knew that their friends would be able to hear every word and so chose his words carefully. Anything that was said would inevitably be reported to the Allfather.

“What have you done, Loki?” Thor asked.

“What needed to be done, _Husband_.”

Thor raised his hand to his neck and touched upon the bruise. There was something about Loki’s sarcastic term of endearment, along with his ever-present smirk and the remains of the love-bite, that almost made Thor believe the action from the night before to be intentional. He could not hazard a guess as to how his brother’s mind worked, but for now all that mattered was getting them to safety and far away from Jotunheim. They had saved Loki.

“Pray that Father does not learn of this, Loki” spat Thor.

“Why not? _My_ father seemed to take it rather well.”

“Do not test my patience. Know your place.”

Loki merely continued to smirk.

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

# Chapter Seven

“Get inside.”

Thor looked coolly to Loki. There was a sweat upon his brother’s brow; it was clear the heat and humidity of their realm affected him, especially through layers of clothing and the thick cloak, and he slouched just slightly under their weight. The blue colour of his skin stood out against the palace around them, enough that the guards stared when they passed by, and the whispers were audible and blended together until they became a cacophony of sound.

The shame was visible on Loki’s face, but he stood as tall as possible and ordered forth punishments should any guard become too obvious in their curiosity. Thor doubted that his orders would carry much weight. He could see the guards already break protocol by raising eyebrows at Loki’s commands, while many smirked when he passed by, and others – when they thought they could not be heard – would mutter slurs or sexual comments, treating Loki as one of the enemy or an exotic commodity. Thor loathed every moment.

“I have rooms of my own,” said Loki.

Loki gave a scoff and made to walk away, but Thor took a hold of his upper arm. It was not often that Loki was disobeyed; princes were the ones to set the rules, as well as people to be obeyed at all costs, but now things had changed and Loki existed in a state of limbo. The guards saw him in his Jotun form, as well as were likely told of his condition, and saw him as an unwanted guest within the palace walls, while Thor was in no mood to humour him.

“This is not up for discussion, Loki,” replied Thor.

He opened the doors to his bedroom and forced Loki within, as he dragged him by his arm and shoved him inside, and – somewhere behind him – he heard one of the guards chuckle. Thor rounded upon them and forced back his anger; he still reeled from the incident on Jotunheim, as he felt his heart pound within his breast and chest move with heavy breaths, and the guards on the doors opposite quickly jolted to full attention. They stood tall and their smiles were wiped from their faces. He looked between the two of them in warning.

They seemed silenced by the force of his demeanour alone, which was enough to satisfy him and allow him to return to his rooms. He slammed the doors shut with enough force to shatter the wood; splinters fell around the handle and locks, while splits appeared on the sides, and they opened briefly with the force of the slam. It forced Thor to close them more gently, as he locked the doors and fought the urge to kick them in frustration.

Loki had retired into the bedroom. Thor followed quickly, only to see his brother had abandoned the cloak and coat to a far corner of the room, while he stood before an ornate mirror and examined his body. There was something oddly intimate about seeing Loki in such a state, even though he remained dressed, because it often felt that Loki only allowed himself to be seen in full and formal attire. Loki rarely allowed anyone to see him half-dressed or in a state of disarray, let alone in such a vulnerable state, and his hands traced his body as if to reassure himself that it was still there . . . that it was _his_.

“I do not appreciate being disrespected before the guards,” said Loki.

“You left me with very little choice,” answered Thor. “We must talk, Loki, but we must talk now. Father will call us forth first thing tomorrow morn; it is luck alone that he has not bade us come to him already, but that luck will not last long. I wish to speak to you before that happens. We must know what we are to say and evade further punishment.”

“Oh, come now. Do you mean to say attempted assassination of a foreign monarch, along with what could arguably be called an invasion of a country’s borders, would anger the Allfather? At least, for once, we are equal in our crimes.”

“My only crime was to love you! I went to Jotunheim to retrieve my brother, not to cause trouble or prove myself or to obtain revenge! If the Allfather were to exile me for my crime, I would accept that and gladly strive to prove my worth to him, but if you were to remain lost and captive in the Jotun lands -?” Thor shook his head. “I would not be able to live with myself. I would tear the whole nine realms apart to find you.”

Loki rolled his red eyes. It was visible in the mirror, as if he didn’t believe that Thor could see him, but his expression was overall soft and free from any malice. Loki eventually took to removing parts of his clothing, while Thor undressed completely and returned to the bed. He thought that he caught Loki looking at him through the mirror; Loki kept on his trousers and shirt, although he cast away the other layers and accessories, and somehow the loose clothing – free from all else – made him look all the more attractive.

It took Loki a long time to turn to bed; he only moved once he saw Thor hide his modesty beneath the sheets, before he took position on top of those same sheets next to Thor. They lay side-by-side, while both looked absently at the ceiling, and Thor noticed that his brother lay with his hands clasped over his stomach, much as he often did when collecting his thoughts or simply reclining for rest. He gave a low sigh and spoke absently to Thor.

“You still disrespected me,” said Loki.

Thor gave a sad smile, as he rested his head upon his hands. The sheets were cool on his skin, but the air was cooler still, and so he reached down to pull the fur throws over his body. It would not be long before Loki returned to his rooms for the night; Thor wondered how his brother’s new form would affect his habits, whether he would sleep in his green nightclothes or whether he would hide beneath the sheets. He was so sensitive to the heat as of late, enough that even lying beside Thor looked uncomfortable to him.

“Aye, I know,” whispered Thor.

“They no longer respect me as things stand,” said Loki.

“I will make a point of apologising to you before them. If they see that I am able to humble myself and admit to a wrong, it may make them more prone to accepting that you are still a prince and still my brother. Truth be told, Loki, I do not know if that will do much to fix the matter. Heimdall warned us that the palace knew of your heritage on our return. It is likely that they may ‘forget your orders’, but certain that the gossip shall continue.”

“Let us not play dumb, Thor. They will not respect me regardless of what you do; I am a Jotun and an adopted prince, one that the Allfather has now discarded and thrown aside, and as such I am nothing more than a guest within my own home. If they see you treating me with kindness, they will only treat me with that same kindness in your presence.”

“So you believe they will treat you cruelly in my absence?” Thor narrowed his eyes. “I would have the head of any man that hurts you, but I am not above flogging any man that seeks to humiliate or insult you. You are Loki. You are my –”

“Brother? Is that what you wish to say?”

The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable. There was the sound of the drapes rustling in the adjoining room, likely from where they had forgotten to close them, and a breeze from the balcony that made the temperature unpleasant for Thor. He caught sounds from afar, but he mainly listened to Loki’s breathing and occasional sighs, while the sheets rustled against his skin and the furs made a scratching noise when he moved.

“You are my brother, Loki,” said Thor.

“No, I am _not_ ,” retorted Loki. “You saw to that the moment you revealed that bite! I suppose it is only natural when you exercise every muscle but your brain; I left that mark as a private bargaining chip, so that you could convince Laufey privately, but you -!”

Loki sat upright and rested his hand upon his knee, as he looked to Thor with a mixture of disgust and betrayal. The look was hard to bear, but harder still when Loki ran a hand through his hair and climbed out of bed with harsh movements, and soon he began to pace with his arms folded across his chest and head kept low. Thor sat up, as he clenched the sheets around his waist to make sure he remained covered. Loki’s blue skin had paled. He spun around and threw apart his arms in a somewhat melodramatic fashion, as he demanded:

“What part of you thought to make such a thing _public_?”

“Forgive me that you keep so much of your motives secret!” Thor shouted: “Do you think that I can read your mind? Do you think I just awaken knowing your intent? You left this bite, Loki! _You_! I used what I had to retrieve you from Laufey, that is all!”

“If you were really my brother, you would have more faith in me!” Loki gave him a dark sneer. “Did you ever consider why I was there, Thor? I had my motives and my reasons, but I certainly would not allow myself to be captured by a mere _Jotun._ The only person that has ever held me against my will was you, and – frankly – this room is an ill-suited cell.”

Thor climbed to his feet. He wrapped the sheet around his waist, as the furs fell to the bed, and he felt his heart race furiously within his chest. The idea that Loki could purposely allow himself to be caught was bad enough, but worse still when Loki could imply that Thor was no better than the Jotun and violating his rights. Thor marched over to his brother, as his feet sounded loudly against the floor, and he stopped only when he was a mere inch from his brother, barely able to fight the urge to push him away or to grab a hold of him.

“You wish to leave? _Leave_.”

“You don’t understand,” yelled Loki. “What do you get by claiming me your spouse? You have severed all and any familial ties between us! If we are forced to wed to prove our claim, I can _never_ return to being your brother. Never. Asgard cannot support such an incestual union; we are either betrothed or we are brethren, but you have made your choice.”

“It is the same choice that you would have made, Loki! Tell me, what would you have done differently?” Thor jabbed his finger threateningly near his face. “You mean to say that I should have left you there in that harsh terrain and with those cruel people? Is that it?”

“You do not understand, do you? You have _destroyed_ any chance I have to be Loki Odinson! Those friends of yours are now well aware that I am Laufey’s biological son, as such the word will travel and people will doubt my loyalties. I shall be the monster that children fear to see walk in their presence. Worse, I may become the example of what a Jotun may become when ‘civilised’. I shall be seen as a creature and not as a person.

“Ah, but it matters not, because now I am claimed by Thor! Odin’s son! My version of events would have played out with a private audience with Laufey, one in which we could have escape to Asgard with the same claim, but with which no one else need know and we could find time to think of some way out of what was said. No, you couldn’t do that, could you? Now everyone knows. Now we must _prove_ our union or _deny_ our union, but what then? If we deny our union, I must be sent straight to Laufey. What do you think he shall do then?

“He will not need a healthy hostage, because he will know that all ties have been severed between myself and Asgard. It matters not that you will claim familial ties, because those ties do not exist in law or politics, and he shall be free to treat me however he sees best, which will be less than an animal . . . less than property . . . perhaps I shall be thrown into the abyss. I have found people willing to use me, to teach me new things, give me new powers . . .”

There was something dangerous in what Loki said. The way Loki looked off to the side spoke of a great sadness, while his shoulder slumped and his shirt hung badly from his body, and – despite his impressive height – he seemed to shrink against Thor. Thor wanted to ask who had made such an offer to Loki, but he knew that he would only get half-truths and lies of omission, assuming his silver tongue had not turned to lead with the pressure upon them. Thor could bear it no longer and opened his mouth to ask, but was quickly pre-empted.

“I do not wish to associate with such people,” said Loki quietly.

“Laufey will know that we want you,” replied Thor. “We can still bargain for you.”

“No, you know that isn’t so. Sif and the Warriors Three, as well as the entire court of Laufey, have heard that I am Laufey’s to claim, while now every guard and servant and courtier in Asgard knows that I have been disowned – even if temporarily – by Odin. You know the Allfather. You know he will not ask for me back, not if it means losing face. He will have lost all leverage, especially when the ‘betrothal’ would be rejected. We lack any ties.”

They remained in an awkward silence for a long while. The mirror to the side reflected their images back upon them, which alerted Thor to the closeness between them. He stepped back to give his brother room; the reaction was instantaneous, as Loki drew in a deep breath and pulled himself up to his full height. There was darkness to his cheeks that may have been a flush, as the blue shade darkened considerably, while those red eyes narrowed dangerously. It was not often that Loki was the one to grow to anger in such a manner.

Thor had lost control of his temper many times, enough so that he knew when to warn Loki to leave him or give him space, just as Loki knew in turn what to say and how to act to appease his anger and bring him back to his sanity. This was different. Thor often tried to walk away when Loki’s anger began to brim, but he was not a man like any other, so that he would channel his anger and use it single-handedly to destroy whatever it was that brought the full extent of his wrath. He was furious with Thor, as such he would lash out until Thor was successfully hurt or broken, but he would no doubt regret such an action when calmed.

“Then we will continue the act,” said Thor. “It will keep you safe.”

“Aye, is that right?” Loki laughed. “You would woo me and bed me? I know your love for me has always ran on the physical, but we have always denied ourselves that one act! It would complicate our relationship. It would cause a scandal across all nine realms! I cannot go from seeing you as a brother to a spouse in the space of a day! Besides, I am no ideal mate for a future king. What would your people think? What would they say?

“If you grew tired of me, sick of the novelty and bored of the no longer forbidden, we could never divorce or annul . . . the minute you deny me is the minute Laufey or my brothers regain a claim over ‘their’ prince! Your friends would be disgusted with you for being tied to what they see as your brother! Our father would hate you for placing a half-Jotun as future heir to his throne! You would create a union between us and also create a union between Jotunheim in the process! You’re not just marrying one monster but an entire race!”

“Our realm would have known you were a Jotun, just as they have already discovered! Our friends would have learnt this, while Laufey would have used this, and it was only time before everyone knew that you were Laufey’s child! We must use what we have at hand, and what I had at hand was the chance to establish a new bond that trumps that of a sibling!”

“You are too short-sighted, too simple-minded, too much of a warrior and not enough of a politician to rule or understand my actions! I had things under control, Thor. You are nothing but a weak man, one that can only act if I am there to hold his hand, a pathetic _princess_ –”

Thor let out a deafening roar.

He felt his hand around his brother’s throat before he could stop it, and Loki was thrown against the wall behind him. The grip was solid and unbreakable. Loki was held high enough that he was forced to place his weight on his toes, while his hands grasped in a mild panic at Thor’s forearms and struggled to keep a hold upon those muscles. Thor leaned into him so close that their noses touched, that he could feel his brother’s jerky breath against him.

The anger was overwhelming; he felt it cloud his judgement and his instincts, but this was the very behaviour that Loki was willing to risk high treason to prove, and Thor knew that he needed to prove his worth and his right as king. He looked his brother in the eyes. There was a hint of fear, but also a look a gloating look upon him. Thor loosened his hold, as he tried to ignore the way his pulse sounded like a drum in his ears, while he swallowed hard and dropped Loki to his feet. He was prepared to walk away, but it was then that Loki laughed.

Thor could control himself no longer.

He pushed himself against his brother, shoving Loki hard against the wall. Loki’s wrists were gripped firmly in his hands, as he held them on either side of his head, and – before Loki could object – he pressed his lips against the man beneath him. Loki reacted instantly; he reciprocated in kind, so that Thor was forced to grip tighter to hold onto what little self-control was left, and soon he tasted his brother and felt himself breathless. He pulled back and gasped for breath, as Loki closed his eyes and smiled absently.

“Damn you,” said Loki.

Thor laughed in good humour and let go of Loki’s wrists. They looked bruised, but Loki made no complaint and simply slid down the wall with a smile in turn, and Thor was forced to make a grab for the sheets about his waist. It seemed that they had come loose during the kiss, but the last thing that he wanted was for Loki to see him completely undressed and to feel pressured or uncomfortable. He instead waited to catch his breath, before he walked back around the bed and climbed in with a great awareness regarding his arousal.

“What were your intentions?”

“Civil war,” snapped Loki. “I used my time in captivity to whisper to my brothers; they are disillusioned with Jotunheim, easily swayed by promises of greater powers and the ability to rebuild their realm to its former grandness. I swore to them that Asgard would grant them the Casket of Ancient Winters, provided that it could prove itself trustworthy, and that my place in Asgard would give them insider’s information. I could be of use to them.”

“All they have to do is kill Laufey, is that it?”

“No, only _I_ get that privilege. I hoped to be there for at least a few more days, as either Odin came to retrieve me or finally gave you permission to seek me. I would have used that time to – well – _time_ the war according to a schedule more useful to me . . . should the war take place during the Odinsleep, should Laufey attack then, I could regain Odin’s trust.”

Thor gave a large exhale of breath, as he felt his arousal disappear. He realised that Loki’s plans relied so much on chance and the assumption he knew how those around him would react, which made him wonder what would have happened should the Jotun men have invaded during his planned coronation. Thor would not have let that stand. Thor – in all his anger and pride – would have invaded them in turn and likely risked war, and that was enough to make him realise that Loki was right: he was in no position to rule.

“You would create a problem to solve a problem,” said Thor.

“As it stands, I think we could insinuate ourselves into any future battles. If we side with the ‘rebels’ and they win -? Asgard would be hailed as heroes. We would have the undying loyalty of whoever is placed on the throne, as well as a strong political alliance via myself, as they would trust their brother and a fellow Jotun. That is what I plan.”

“Why tell me this, Loki? Do you trust me not to tell our father? It is dangerous to incite a civil war, but more so for our realm that you could be placed in a position of power . . . Father will not want you advising me as consort, not if this is what you would advise.”

“Aye, he would not. That is why you will not tell him.” Loki gave a dangerous smirk. “You want me to live. You want me _here_. You are right that the Allfather would not trust me, but what would happen should that trust be broken any further than it has already? He would not hesitate to cast me into exile. I would likely be given a choice, but that choice would be to survive on my own or return to Jotunheim. I suppose I could attempt the latter . . . to be king of a wasteland must be better than to be a slave in Asgard.”

Loki stood and looked over to the bed. The green clothing no longer suited his blue form, while his red eyes added to the sense of menace about him, and Thor realised that his brother had been more honest with him since the change than in a lifetime together. Thor sat up and saw that his brother’s arrogance and humour was a mere façade; there was a tremble to his lip, as well as a clenching to his hands, which spoke of fear and shame.

“Do not tease, Loki,” he chided.

“Nevertheless, my original point remains,” said Loki.

“Did you think that by ‘proving’ your worth in killing Laufey, that Father would take you back into our family and bestow you back your Asgardian form?” Thor asked. “Is that why you were so angry that I claimed us married? I ruined your plans . . .”

“No, you merely caused me to . . . _adapt_ them.”

“Loki, I am not sorry for saving you.”

Loki rolled his eyes and walked towards the _en suite_. There was something dangerous in his eyes, enough so that Thor knew it best to let him have his space, and so he lay down and listened to the breeze from the balcony. The residual anger still lingered, enough that he no longer felt the cold and felt that sleep would be near impossible, but Loki looked lost in thought and was clearly unwilling to share how he felt. There would be no further discussion, not when Loki wanted to only discuss the ‘how’ and not the ‘why’.

“I will take a cool bath,” said Loki. “Will you join me?”

“We are not married. You know my answer.”

“Ah, so chaste. So admirable!”

Thor laughed loudly; he was reminded of the times where Loki would joke with him, where the teasing was familial and kind, and yet often bordered on flirtatious. The offer was not serious, as Loki would not want such an act and at such a time, but the fact that he was willing to joke about such an offer reassured Thor immensely. He rolled onto his side and watched as his brother lingered in the doorway, as he wished for simpler days.

“If you change your mind -?” Loki teased.

“Do not make me regret saving you.”

Loki laughed warmly.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

# Chapter Eight

“Do you know what your actions have wrought?”

Odin looked furious. The lines upon his face were etched deeper with his rage, enough that he was aged beyond his years, and there was a frailty about his expression that reminded Thor how their father was truly ready to pass on the throne. There was exhaustion about him, one that likely came with the need for the Odinsleep, while he cast his grey eye about Thor as if he saw him for the first time, and it would have intimidated a lesser man.

The hall felt bright that morning; the golden walls and decorations glistened in the sun, while a soft breeze came from the balcony, and yet the living space felt claustrophobic for their father’s presence. Loki stood on the outskirts. He clung to the shadows of the walls, where he rubbed his hands together nervously, but the way he stared at his blue skin spoke of a deeper concern and a need to reassess his identity in relation to others. Thor wanted nothing more than to bring him closer, to reassure him that he was still a part of the group, but it would be bad for everyone to do such a thing. Loki was better off not involved in this fight.

Frigga sat upon the circular bench with a great sense of grace, while the fireplace centre of the seating area glowed with dying embers from the night before, and her blonde hair caught what light that remained beautifully. There was something comforting about her presence, although she chose not to calm her husband and simply listen to the conversation at hand, and – in that sense – she reminded Thor of Loki. He was also one to avoid confrontation when possible and listen to those around him, only willing to speak when spoken to.

“Aye, I rescued my brother,” said Thor coldly.

“No, you have _damned_ your brother!”

Thor stood his ground as Odin rounded upon him. There was a look from Loki, as if he were afraid to speak and yet wanted to say something of great import, but he looked away and took a step back away from their father. He had dressed himself in his usual clothing; he refused to look anything other than an Asgardian, even if his skin betrayed him, and he had even slicked back his hair much in his old style. Always the obedient son, he remained silent even now.

“Loki was _captured_ by that monster,” continued Thor.

“That monster is Laufey, king of Jotunheim,” said Odin. “Do you realise what you have done with your rash and impulsive actions? You have made it known across both realms that Loki is Laufey’s to claim, and – by doing so – you have severed all ties that connect Loki to our people. Laufey has demanded Loki’s return and I -? I see no way to refuse him.”

There was a solemn silence in the air; Frigga looked down with a sense of lament, while Loki simply closed his eyes with a smile that hinted at anger, but Thor knew that they would resign themselves to any command issued by their king. Loki had never wanted the throne, while Frigga acted only as an advisor, but Thor would one day be king and he would not be silenced when so great an injustice was unfolding before him. He stepped forward.

“I have given you a way to refuse him,” snapped Thor. “I told Laufey that I am espoused to Loki, as such he has no right to demand Loki back into his fold! There is no way to prove this untrue, but – if he seeks for proof – we shall give proof. I do not see why a ceremony cannot be staged or false witnesses provided, what else would he require?”

“He could require an heir.” Odin gave him a cold stare. “It would be well within his right. If an heir cannot be provided, even within a legitimate marriage, he could argue you an unfit husband and ask that Loki be given back to him, so that he may marry Loki to someone more ‘fitting’. Do you think me able to stop him? The second you claim Loki as a spouse, you denied him as my son. I have no right at all to intervene, Thor. _None_.”

“You were the one that cast this spell upon Loki, that made him feel disowned and discarded, but I was the one that sought to right a wrong! I could not have left my brother at the mercy of such monsters! Do you mean to say I should have abandoned him, too? Is that it?”

“Do not _dare_ to speak to me in such a manner! I am your king!”

“You are a fool and an cruel man!”

Odin’s reaction was instantaneous. He paled and drew himself up to full height, while he looked down upon Thor with a quiet fury, and Thor – panting for breath and slouched under the weight of his anger – realised he had crossed a line. Thor stepped back and ran a hand through his blond hair, while Loki looked to him with wide eyes and an expression of grave concern, and it took all of Thor’s strength not to lash out further and make matters worse. The sigh that escaped Frigga’s lips reminded him of the consequences to such insults.

“I thought this anger of yours tempered,” said Odin.

“Aye, so did I, but I have come to see things clearly as of late.” Thor clenched his fists. “I may not yet be fit to rule, not until I learn the patience and self-control of a king, but I know that I would not sacrifice even a single soul under any circumstance. I am sworn to protect Asgard and its citizens; that includes Loki, Father, for even he can be redeemed.”

“Do not think that my anger does not extent to Loki. He may be my son, but he was willing to sacrifice our nation’s security to merely delay your coronation, a decision that he had no right to make, and now he has fled to Jotunheim to instigate a civil war.”

“Ah,” interrupted Loki, “that I can explain. I –”

“ _Silence, Loki_!”

The command was almost a growl. It was so primal that Loki visibly winced and retreated back against the shadows, while he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, and Odin’s expression turned into something dark. There was a wince to his eyes, almost as if he were in some form of pain, before he pointed at his younger son and curled his lips into an angry snarl, and spit visibly formed with every word that he snapped at Loki.

“You are only here Loki as I lack _proof_ ,” said Odin.

Odin pulled back with a hiss of breath, as he raised a hand to his head. The Odinsleep would no doubt soon be upon him, while he hastened his breath and shook slightly on his feet, and looked away from Loki with half-closed eyes and lips pursed into a white line. There was a moment of tense silence; Thor heard his heart beat loud within his ears, as he clenched his muscles and fought the urge to go to Loki’s side, and he felt a spark of panic.

The last few remaining sparks from the fire began to die away, although enough remained to capture Thor’s attention, and he saw the way his mother looked into them with a visible difficulty in retaining her self-control. Odin stumbled back a step, which caught her full attention and caused her to look upon him in alarm, but he raised a hand and bade her to keep her distance. Their love was sincere and eternal, but Odin was a man that would take little help from anyone lest it cause him to lose face. Thor bit his tongue to remain silent.

“I am too unwell for this,” said Odin.

“You would have every right to exile me for my actions,” replied Thor. “I understand that I have much to learn about respect and worth, but you think too much as a king and not enough as a man! There are ways to settle this without bloodshed. We have Loki and –”

“We do not have Loki. I know too much how he thinks; you forget that I have raised him from a newborn, that I have taught him and nurtured him, and I know his weaknesses as well as my own. He had instigated civil war for his own end, but that end is something I cannot yet claim to know, yet I have no doubt that it involves the death of Laufey. It is what I would have done in his position. We are both men with limits, his limits have been met.”

“It has been less than a day! Laufey may make any claim he so wishes, but neither Laufey nor you know why his men have begun a revolt. It may suit us well, however; we cannot let Jotunheim tear itself apart, but should Laufey be overthrown then it would mean that his claim upon Loki ends with his reign. The need for a union would be no more.”

“Aye, is that so? It would be convenient indeed to let their potential war run its course, perhaps to allow the people’s uprising to end in the overthrowing of a king, but what then, Thor? We will have no set truce with any new king, no reason to keep peace . . .”

“We will _make_ peace. We can forge a new alliance. We can –”

“A new alliance, indeed. Like _this_ one, I imagine?”

Odin reached out with an impressive speed. His cool fingers latched upon the collar of Thor’s undershirt, which was exposed beneath his armour and covered his neck, and wrenched the material down with enough violence to jolt Thor downward. The bruise upon his neck was exposed; Frigga looked away with a clear frustration, while Loki bit his lip and jerked his head as he held back a curse, and Odin simply jabbed his finger in its direction.

“Have you no shame?” Odin asked.

Thor felt a flush to his cheeks; every instinct told him to fight back, to tell Odin exactly what the mark meant and that there was no shame to love, but he knew that his father’s orders were absolute and Loki’s feelings were also at stake. He raised a hand to his neck and rubbed absently at the bruise, which sent a prick of pain through his body, and he dreaded to think how such a ‘love-bite’ looked to those around him. Thor struggled to keep eye contact.

There was something harsh about Odin’s expression, so much so that he looked both physically weakened and hurt by such a revelation, and he looked to Thor with a mixture of disgust and surprise. He stumbled back and caught himself against the sofa, before he sat down upon it and drew in heavy breaths, and Thor – unused to seeing his father look to fragile and so ordinary – felt a spark of fear that he had caused such a great man to succumb to such emotions. Frigga at once went to her husband’s side, as she attended to him.

“It is not what you think, Father,” whispered Thor.

“I had hoped it untrue,” said Odin sadly. “I have turned a blind eye long enough. Loki may have chosen to separate himself from our family, but he is still my son and will continue to be treated as my son once he admits his faults. His suffering is self-imposed. If I must separate you both in order to protect you both, it is something that I will have no qualms doing.”

“You can hide Loki away in the deepest of our dungeons, but I will still find him. I do not care whether I must break every law of Asgard and defy you in the process, but I will not let Loki be taken from me when what he needs most is the love of his family!”

“That is not the kind of love that Loki needs.” Odin gripped upon the sofa. “You will be separated until I can find a more permanent arrangement; we will not forfeit Loki to Laufey, but nor can we allow Loki to walk freely when he has risked so much, and once this conflict has been resolved then we can finally settle the unsettling behaviour between the two of you. It – it would be better for you to be married off . . . end these urges . . .”

Odin collapsed where he sat. Frigga held him as best as she could, before she lay him down upon the sofa, and Loki – his blue skin paled and lips trembling – moved out of the shadows and ran to their father, where he knelt in front of him. The younger man reached out as if to touch him, but paused with his hand midair. There was a shake to his fingers. Loki looked afraid to touch him, afraid perhaps to burn him with the cold of his skin, and it took a moment for him to find the courage to make contact. Loki stroked his father’s hair kindly.

“Father,” called Thor.

There was something unspoken in the air; Frigga was at once on her feet, as she looked to Thor pleadingly and raised her hands before her face. The way her hands held together – pressed together as if in prayer – hid her nervous smile and unshed tears from sight, until she lowered them enough to clasp before her stomach. The sleep had been postponed for so long, but no doubt the stress and shock had been what finally cast the Allfather into its embrace.

“It is the Odinsleep,” whispered Frigga.

“Guards!” Loki called. “Guards! My father needs help!”

The guards burst through the doors. Everything else followed in a blur; the guards carried out Odin in a small group, while Loki rushed alongside them and kept hold of Odin’s hand, and soon the doors were closed and Frigga was left alone with Thor. There was a clear panic upon her face, enough to make it clear that she wanted nothing more than to run to her husband’s side, but she remained in the living space just long enough to confront her eldest son.

Thor walked over to her, as she dabbed at a few stray tears beneath her eyes. He hated seeing her in such pain, although he knew this reaction to be only natural, especially due to the fears that this sleep may be the Allfather’s last. The air felt cold, enough that Thor wanted to leave and vent his anger in some healthier form, and the training fields all but called to him. There was something devastating that his father’s potential last words to him were so cruel, that Thor and Loki were to both marry to other people to keep them apart.

“What now?” Thor asked.

“Now we must see to your father,” said Frigga. “I cannot endorse or discourage any actions you may have planned, for those are your choices to make and your responsibility to bear, but I would advise you to take this time to secure Loki a place within Asgard. It is likely that you shall be asked to rule, for a Jotun upon the throne would provoke an uprising of our own at this time, and your first action as king cannot be to undo the rule of the old.”

“If we marry before I assume the role of king, it will not count as unlawful, is that it? My actions would be that of a man disobeying his father, not of a prince disobeying his king, and once a marriage is done then it cannot be undone . . . Father would be furious.”

“It is an action that can be forgiven, but I will ask of you one thing . . .”

“You do not wish for us to consummate.”

Frigga looked away with a blush to her cheeks. It felt strange that a woman so strong and so confident, one that taught Loki both to fight and to cast illusions, could be embarrassed by the idea of intercourse. Thor then realised it was perhaps not the idea of intercourse that made her feel that way, but more the fear and disgust that it could be an act between her two sons, something that would be considered incestuous and wrong to those within the royal family and their closest friends. Thor looked away in shame at such a realisation.

“I agree with you that it is a fine way to protect Loki’s rights,” said Frigga. “I also agree with your father that this behaviour is most immoral, as such I would ask that it be a marriage in name only, but I cannot stop you from seeking more. Do what you think right.”

“I swear to you that nothing untoward has ever taken place.”

“Then see to it that things stay that way.”

She cast him a stern look. It made him feel chilled to his core, as the disapproval of his mother somehow felt far worse than that of his father, and yet he felt something coil in his stomach that spoke of desire for Loki and a will that was weak. He knew that he would be unable to hold back should they marry, but this was something he could not dare confess to the woman that bore him and raised him. Frigga merely smiled and walked to the doors.

“I have faith in you,” she said.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

# Chapter Nine

Loki looked beautiful.

He sat before the mirror in casual wear; the green tunic top was plain yet fitting, while a sleeveless leather coat hung over it, and his black trousers stopped just short of flat slip-on shoes. Thor noted how Loki’s hair was gelled back perfectly. There was something strange about seeing Loki so underdressed, especially when he was naturally prone to more intricate attire and often armour, but Thor suspected that he purposely dressed down.

Thor stood behind him; he reached down to place his hands on Loki’s shoulders, as he then began to knead the muscles beneath the layers with thick fingers. There was a great deal of tension to his brother, enough that Thor feared hurting him on occasion, and there were several knots that were hard to work out. It was easy to get lost watching Loki’s expressions. He could see the small wrinkles against the corner of Loki’s eyes, as well as the purse to his lips, and he wondered whether the younger man were angry at the day’s events.

“This vanity is in a dreadful state,” said Loki.

Thor looked down out of curiosity. There was indeed a layer of dust that he had otherwise failed to notice, while there was a distinct lack of items save for a brush and what nightwear Loki had placed on top, and Thor realised that his brother would need more space and items than he had considered. Loki was a man that prided himself on his appearance, enough so that the dressing room would need to be reworked and changed considerably for his benefit.

“I have rare occasion to use it,” replied Thor.

“That much is obvious.” Loki relaxed into the massage. “If you wouldn’t mind, _Husband_ , I would like to get changed for the evening. I do not intend to do so with you watching, whatever your intentions may be regarding this sham of a marriage.”

“I expect nothing, Loki, even if I hope for everything.”

“Then you have no intentions?”

There was no bitterness to Loki’s tone, but a great deal of curiosity. The reflection of his brother showed that he was nervous, perhaps more so than he ought, and his knuckles were white from where they gripped at the edge of the vanity. Thor let his fingers pause in their task, as he let his fingertips rest against the collarbone of Loki, before he slowly removed them and took a long step back. He gave Loki the space he so needed and nodded to him.

It was a gesture of acknowledgement and respect; Thor knew that the moment was made more intimate than need be due to his state of undress, which was much more severe than Loki’s, and there he stood with only loose trousers and nothing else. The muscles that were on show were still wet from where he bathed, while his hair was loose and stuck to his skin with the water from the _en suite_ basin, and he realised how the situation must have felt to Loki in those few moments together in the dressing room. Thor smiled sadly.

“I intend to respect your wishes,” said Thor patiently.

He placed a hand loosely upon Loki’s shoulder, where it lingered for a brief moment, and then left the dressing room to enter the main room. There was no chill this time, as the fires had been allowed to burn during the ceremony, and the balcony was for once closed against the winds from outside. The heat only added to Thor’s sweat and likely to Loki’s discomfort, but even having extinguished the fires on their return seemed to do little to diminish the heat, and Thor – in one last chore for the night – opened the balcony up to allow in air.

It was possible that the flow of air would not help much, especially on such a warm evening, but he would do all that he could to ease Loki’s discomfort wherever possible, and so he made his way into the bedroom. There were no flowers or incense, no soft lights or music, and the realisation struck him that this was a mere marriage of convenience in the eyes of family and friends. He shed himself of his trousers and climbed into the bed.

The sheets felt inhumanely cool against his body, a fact that suspiciously made him wonder whether someone like Frigga had cooled them for Loki, before he realised that they weren’t supposed to be sharing a bed in the first place, which made such a thought unlikely. He allowed himself to rest for a while; it took time before Loki entered the bedroom, but – when he did – he was dressed differently to before. Loki wore his hair loose and free from any waxes or gels, while the rough and green material of his hooded top clashed against his blue skin, and the black bottoms stopped just above bare feet.

“Ah, the marriage bed,” said Loki coldly.

“It feels like it has been cooled for your comfort,” said Thor. “I believe that Mother likely assumed I would take the sofa within the sitting room, as she would not have done so should she have thought I would share them with you. She has made it clear that she does not condone any physical relationship between us. You should be comfortable here.”

“Father has succumbed to the Odinsleep. The world knows what monster I am. We have been rushed into a hasty ceremony to secure my place in Asgard.” Loki moved toward the bed. “Tell me, in what manner should I be comfortable, Thor?”

“Do not twist this into something untoward, Loki.”

“Marriages _usually_ require consummation.”

Loki climbed into the bed with little grace. He let the sheets fall upon him and gave a long sigh, one that bordered upon pleasure and spoke of great relief, and he closed his eyes and let his black hair fan out behind him. The iced bed warmers – or perhaps some form of _sei_ _ðr_ – would soon wear off, at which point Loki would likely throw the sheets onto Thor’s side of the bed, and then it would be Thor’s turn to overheat. Thor watched Loki curiously, as he tried to discern his husband’s emotions, but Loki was most unreadable. Thor asked:

“I thought you wanted consummation?”

There was a low hiss of breath from Loki, as he opened his eyes and gazed up at the ceiling above him, and his form slowly dipped in and out of its Jotun state, as Loki muttered some form of magic under his breath and debated which form to take. In the end, he appeared to settle for his Jotun state and let his Asgardian form vanish from sight. Thor did not know what to make of such a display, as such he remained silent and kept still.

“What I want is not so simple,” whispered Loki.

“Tell me what is that you do want,” said Thor. “I will not judge you.”

“Thor, I have loved you more dearly than any other, you must know this.” Loki gave a sad smile. “I was never blind to your faults, just as I often resented you for being the favourite of our father, but I loved you and would willingly give my all for you. You were my brother. That is not to say I never felt more than this, as we both know that would be a lie, but I was always able to exercise self-control and never let such stolen touches go too far.

“What do you think would have happened were we found out? It was not you that was silenced by Father, nor you that was teased by your peers, and – as such – I would have been found accountable. I have no doubt that I would have been the ‘seducer’. I would have been cast away . . . abandoned . . . much as I have been these past few days. Do I want more? Aye, I have always been curious about such a thing. I wonder what it would feel like, what it would taste like, but it was too much of a risk. I considered curiosity not worth my exile.”

Thor allowed the words to sink into understanding. The way Loki’s face paled showed the extent of his fear, while Thor had never before considered just which of them would be considered ‘responsible’, but a part of him believed Loki to be wrong. Thor was the elder brother, as well as the one expected to become ruler of Asgard, as such he suspected that the onus would have fallen upon him. He knew better than to question Loki, however.

“We are married now,” said Thor quietly.

There was a low laugh from Loki, as he rolled onto his side. The sight was one that forced Thor to swallow back a growing sense of arousal; Loki’s body curved with how he lay, while the sheets fell about his waist in rather a seductive manner, and somehow the messy hair and rough nightwear only enhanced his look. He appeared strong and somehow fragile, handsome and yet common, and he was such a mass of contradictions that Thor could not ignore the complexity of his brother or his depth. He rolled onto his side in turn, so he could face Loki.

“I have always veered more to ‘brother’ than to ‘lover’,” said Loki.

“Such a thing would be hard to reconcile,” admitted Thor. “I will not push you to resolve the conflict you feel, but I will ask why you flirted with me and tried to bed me but a few days ago. If you do not feel fully desirous, I ask why you wished for me to take you.”

“The need was there, but it was not borne out of desire.” Loki gave a small sigh. “I simply had nothing left to lose in that moment, Thor. It may have escaped your notice, but I have hit – as they say – ‘rock bottom’. I am stuck in this revolting form, while every ounce of respect I have earned has been lost, and I no longer cared what people thought of me. I wanted to be used and hurt, distracted from my pain, and I wanted it to be on my terms.”

“There was still risk, Loki. If anyone had found out, they –”

“They would have called me a ‘monster’ and a ‘pervert’ and an ‘ _ergi’_. If I were already doomed to be mocked and hated, merely for my race, I would at least do _something_ to earn their condemnation and take control of my life rather than give control to them. I still want you, Thor, but I also want things to be as they were . . . I know not what I want.”

Thor reached out and took Loki’s hand. He was surprised that his husband allowed him the gesture, as things were still so clouded between them, but Loki simply gave a sigh and turned his palm to allow Thor to properly hold his hand. The skin was less soft than his Asgardian form, but much cooler and with a strange texture that Thor could not quite place, and he wondered whether tactile sensations felt different to his husband now.

They kept their hands clasped between them, as Thor stroked lightly with the back of his thumb, and he simply listened to the heavy breathing of his husband. The strong breeze had found its way into the bedroom, through the open doors, and caused Thor to shuffle further underneath the furs. Loki quirked an eyebrow and gave a sincere smile, as he watched Thor in clear discomfort and yet unwilling to close the doors to the wind lest it add somehow to Loki’s discomfort, and when he spoke he did so almost teasingly.

“Do you want more, Thor?”

“Aye, I always have,” said Thor. “I held back only out of fear of others’ reactions. I did not want you to be alienated for such a scandal, but now that we are married -? I thought that the implied permission and lack of scandal would persuade you as it has me.”

“You have always treasured me as a brother,” whispered Loki. “You would lose that the very moment we consummate this union, enough so that we can never return to what we once were, even should – against all law and custom – this marriage somehow be annulled. It would forever change us and what we once were. Do you understand this?”

Loki gave him a firm look. The red of his eyes narrowed into slits of warning, although there was nothing cold or cruel in his expression, and he gripped tighter upon Thor’s hand while he seemingly held onto his breath. It was clear that Loki was not yet ready to cross such boundaries, but yet he appeared to be attempting to instigate something more, and Thor felt his brow furrow in confusion. He moved closer to Loki and bit his lip. These moments were ones when it was easy to resent Loki, who always hid what he felt and revealed little.

“I understand,” said Thor.

“Mother spoke to me this morning, before the ceremony,” added Loki. “I must say, I was surprised when only Sif and Mother attended, as I half-expected you to invite everyone with which you have ever came into contact, but – that being said – I much preferred it.”

Thor gave a small smile. He knew that Loki would not have wished to be seen in his Jotun form, but even less so to be married to such a controversial choice, and so the ceremony had been intimate and as short as possible. The touch of Loki’s cool skin upon his hand comforted him; he allowed his thumb to trace loose patterns on his husband’s palm, while Loki moved slightly closer out of sheer instinct. There was a faint smile upon his lips.

“What did she say?” Thor asked.

“That she fears we will grow too close,” admitted Loki. “I believe that she thinks any consummation unnatural and unneeded; we will perhaps forever be her sons, always her ‘boys’ despite our age, and I think she views things as I do . . . any physical union between us would be an official end to our brotherhood. It would break apart our family.”

“Aye, but we could create a new one in the process. It would not erase years of memories, while you would legally be her son by law, and the people would not view this as immoral due to your status as Laufey’s son. It would be controversial, yes, but not immoral.”

“It may not legally be incest, but morally it would be,” said Loki. “This is what I struggle with most, as I cannot believe my feelings to be ‘wrong’, and yet I know I should not feel this way to one that I was raised alongside. If I become an in-law to our mother, it would mean that she would cease to _be_ my mother . . . this is something she does not wish to happen, nor I for that matter, and yet it feels inevitable. Have you thought about the issue of an heir?”

There was a heavy silence in the air. The evening had fallen quickly, so that the room had grown significantly darker, and Loki’s skin began to look almost black in what little light remained. The colour was beautiful, but it no longer looked quite like Loki and instead almost like someone else entirely. Thor knew that the issue of an heir would eventually come about, but it was not one that he wished to give thought when they had not so much as consummated their union. It felt wrong to think so far ahead and ignore current conflicts.

“I assume you and Mother have thought of this?”

“Indeed,” said Loki. “Annulment is an incredibly difficult process, but more so when Jotunheim could lay claim to me the moment such an annulment takes place, and a child would cement my right to stay in Asgard. There is also the fact one is required. It may not be now, but at some point one will be expected and what then?”

“If that worries you, we have many alternatives. We do not need to consummate, Loki, not if you have any doubts whatsoever. There are surrogates that can be used, while our parents have made it clear they have no qualms about adoption, but this is so far into the future -!”

“This is already our future, Thor.”

Loki moved closer, enough so that he touched Thor. He held his lips a mere inch from Thor’s, while their hands were clasped between their touching chests, and Loki even allowed a leg to drape over his Thor’s bare leg. They had been in far more intimate positions in the past, even going so far to kiss or to touch, but this somehow felt like the start of something so much more and something with far deeper repercussions. Loki said in but a whisper:

“You say how we define our relationship depends on me?”

“It is up to you,” said Thor. “I will not push you to do anything that you may not wish, Loki. If this is to be a celibate marriage, I will accept that. We can annul when it is safe, or you may take a lover should it suit you, but I will be faithful for you during our time together. I will not force you to be romantic or physical with me, nor will I pressure you. This is a marriage of equals, even if you may never see it that way. I ask that you trust me.”

“Equals? All I ever wanted was to be your equal.”

“Aye, I know, Loki. I know.”

Loki pulled back the sheets and climbed astride Thor. The action forced Thor to try and sit up, but Loki used a hand to push him back flat upon the bed. He kept his hand flat upon Thor’s chest, where he simply felt the racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips, and Thor swallowed hard in the realisation that his husband sat directly upon his groin. There was something extremely arousing about Loki taking such control, but he still appeared stoic.

There was no judging his feelings or intent; Loki looked serious and gazed down at Thor with almost curiosity, while his body remained still and fully clothed, and he appeared not to mind the growing erection beneath him. Loki stayed still for a long time. He then leaned down and placed a kiss upon Thor’s lips, one that was chaste at first and soon grew feverish and passionate, until both were out of breath and bruised. Thor tried to roll them over, but Loki bit hard enough upon his lip to draw blood and pinned him back down by his shoulders.

“I want this, Thor,” said Loki. “Please, do not question me this time.”

“I do not wish for you to feel used or pressured.”

“I feel nothing but honoured. Take me.”

Loki gripped the hem of his pyjama top and removed it, but the gesture was mainly to hide the subtle use of _seiðr_ that caused his body to shift from Jotun into Asgardian. The pale white of his chest was a stark contrast to the previous blue, although his skin remained cold and the texture of the ribbed patterns remained, and Thor allowed himself to throw the top across the room and let his hands roam over Loki’s chest. He tweaked at the nipples and smiled.

The groan that Loki let out was deeply erotic, both for the sound and how forbidden it felt, and Thor resented his brother’s strength and agility. He wanted nothing more than to throw Loki down and to take control, but Loki simply laughed and swatted his hands away, before he slid down his bottoms from behind and yet not the front. Thor felt a spark of disappointment that Loki would try to hide from him, but then he caught the smirk on his brother’s lips and saw the bottoms lowered entirely, as Loki awkwardly climbed out of them.

Thor failed to notice the bed dip and move, as Loki cursed in his attempts to remove them without giving up his position astride Thor, but he did notice the rather attractive member that stood at half-mast before him. It was slender, with a slight curve to the left, and yet it was long enough that Thor knew it would be difficult to take should he submit, but the beauty of it almost made him cease to care. He licked his lips and made to reach out for it.

“I gave you no such permission, Thor,” snapped Loki.

There came a fast and hard swat to his hand. Thor hissed and brought his fingers to his lips, as he sucked upon the knuckles to fight off a bruise, and Loki – flushed red across his chest and cheeks – looked down at him with an expression of hunger. It felt somehow wrong to have his brother above him, yet perfectly right to be so intimate with his husband, and suddenly his stomach churned in an unsettling feeling of confusion. The erection failed to wilt or lessen, but instead he felt a drop of pre-come upon his stomach.

Loki looked down and gave a smirk; Thor knew not what his husband made of his erection, which was far thicker than most and yet shorter than Loki’s, but it certainly looked far less attractive as ropes of veins covered it completely. Loki licked his lips and then leaned down seductively to place a love-bite to Thor’s chest, not far above his nipple, while his free hand traced patterns on Thor’s upper thighs and lower stomach. It was more than he could bear.

“Do you have any oils?”

The question broke Thor from his distraction. He looked up dazedly, as he felt his eyes unfocussed and body smothered with heat, and he allowed his hands to fall on Loki’s thighs. It felt good to caress them, almost impossible to refrain from touching the now erect member of his husband, but he drew in a shuddered breath and tried to make out Loki’s question through his haze of lust. The look of frustration that Loki wore spoke volumes. Loki rolled his eyes and gave a playful slap to Thor’s cheek, enough to sting and bring him to reality.

“Oils, Thor. _Oils_.”

“Hmm? No, none.” Thor licked his lips. “I did not anticipate this.”

“Yet you hoped for it and received it.”

Loki gave a long sigh, as he shook his head and laid his body down over Thor’s. He rested his forearms on either side of Thor’s body, close enough to touch his torso and allowed his hands to rest between shoulder blades and mattress, and Thor – forced out of their position – draped his arms around Loki’s neck. Loki nipped upon his earlobe, before he blew a stream of warm air at Thor and licked along the shell. Thor mentally cursed his husband, as he wrapped his legs around Loki and tried to force him to rub against him.

“Impatient and unprepared,” muttered Loki.

“Be quiet, Loki,” growled Thor.

There was a dangerous laugh from Loki. A hand instantly moved from Thor’s back, until it squeezed its way between their bodies, and soon it came to clench both of their erections together, as its cool touch clashed with Thor’s natural heat. It moved with a greater skill than Thor had ever anticipated. He felt Loki’s length against his own, while heavy breaths became quickened pants against his ear, and there was something amazing about feeling another’s body flush and warm against him. The _seiðr_ failed as Loki grew overwhelmed, so that his Jotun form became on display. It became warm and lost it cool touch.

The pleasure was incredible, enough that Thor felt his nails dig into Loki’s skin. He was sure that there would be cuts by the time the act had finished, but he no longer cared as everything felt so dangerously close to the edge, and the sweat over his body caused his hair to stick to his skin in an almost sickly manner. He felt the ecstasy rise and rise, until he let loose and deafening roar and felt himself reach his peak. The come came in thick ropes. It stuck between them and coated his stomach, as he felt himself nearly faint.

“ _Thor_ ,” whispered Loki.

Loki came not more than a few seconds after, which only added to the afterglow. There was something so erotic about feeling another’s fluids upon him, mixed in with his come, and soon Loki rolled off him onto his side, where he wiped off the come from them with the remains of one of the sheets. Thor watched on in a daze, where he noted – in a muted surprise – that Loki’s come was the same colour and substance of an Asgardian man.

“Do you regret this?” Thor asked breathlessly.

“Not as much as I expected,” admitted Loki. “I sought for a clarification of my feelings; such an act could have backfired tremendously, but I feel that I enjoyed what took place and could enjoy such an act again in future. It is still hard to reconcile my feelings, however.”

“So this was borne out of experimentation? Nothing more?”

“Call it what you want Thor. I simply wish to be held.”

Loki rolled onto his side and faced away from Thor, until he looked over his shoulder and gave a look of expectation to his husband. It made Thor feel a spark of frustration; he felt manipulated somehow by his brother, yet unable to spot exactly how he had been made to act as he had done, and yet he also knew he wanted Loki and enjoyed what took place. He moved onto his side in turn, before he pulled Loki against him and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist, and placed a kiss against his neck. Loki moaned in contentment.

“We should talk about this, Loki,” said Thor quietly. “What is this?”

“So many questions for a man of action,” teased Loki. “Sleep.”

“You do not get to control every aspect of our marriage.”

“No, but then neither do you. Let us sleep.”

Thor sighed and reluctantly gave in.

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

# Chapter Ten

“Sif and I will take the city.”

Thor felt the weight of his hammer. The handle felt rough in his hand; it dug against his skin in an uncomfortable manner, yet the familiarity of it gave him a sense of purpose, and he used the movement as a small distraction from his unease. There would be blood shed. It was something that no longer felt as appealing as once in his youth, as the responsibility of his people – of all people – lay in his hands and so he had a duty to maintain the peace.

The sounds of war echoed around them; civilians and children hid in their icy abodes or caves outside the city walls, although the occasional cry echoed out and made Thor feel the cold anew, but worse still were the noise of the men that fought. There were screams as brother fought against brother, child fought against parent, and some were filled with an anguish that lay outside the realm of just physical pain, but were instead heavy with betrayal and heartbreak. Thor heard metal upon flesh, as well as the sounds of broken objects, and occasionally the thud of a body hitting upon the ice. It was unsettling.

Fandral gave a signal to Volstagg and Hogun. The three of them spread out along the perimeter of the city, where their thick furs and cloaks did little to stave off the icy discomfort, and only Sif remained alongside Thor to turn the tide of the battle. It was clear that she was sceptical about their involvement, especially with so few of their men and none of the soldiers of their realm, but she stood tall and strong with legs apart and hand upon the hilt and her sword. Sif would fight well, as any warrior would fight.

“How do we tell Jotun apart?” Sif asked.

There was little fighting around the gates; Loki’s brothers had secured the area, which allowed them passage inside and kept them free from the blows of others, and only occasionally did an arrow or throwing blade come at them. It was a strategic stronghold. They could use this place for observation and reconnaissance, as well as to limit and control movements of the people and enemies. Thor stepped forward. The crunch of snow under his boot sounded strange to his ears, but he knew soon they would be back in Asgard.

“Býleistr says that his men have donned red sashes,” said Thor.

“Where does Loki stand in this?” Sif added tersely. “Does he fight with Býleistr and Helblindi, with Laufey, or for his own ends? He travelled here with us, Thor, yet he is not with us and has not been seen since our arrival. Tell me, honestly, do you trust him?”

“I trust him not to get himself killed, but that is all. Come, let us fight.”

“Let us pray he is not using this war for his own means.”

Thor ignored the implication of revenge. He marched through the gates until they were outside of the set perimeter of the rebel army, but the insurgents kept them covered against the king’s soldiers until they were too far into the fray to protect. The blows came almost at once, as their enemies seemed to have them vastly outnumbered, but Thor knew – from Býleistr’s information – that this was merely their focal point. It was up to Byleistr’s side to break their ranks and force their way inside the city. It would take time.

There was difficulty in their defence; Laufey’s men descended like a swam, so much so that Thor felt himself overwhelmed with the cold and struggled to move his muscles, and – no sooner had one blow been deflected – another blow would fast come upon him. The burns from their touches were worse than the cuts and bruises. The Jotun would focus their temperature to a fixed point, until Thor would feel his skin burn and blacken. It was a reminder of why the Jotun could be so dangerous. He kept many at a distance, just long enough for either Sif or the rebels to defeat them, but it felt too little and too late.

They were everywhere.

The exits were blocked, while the Jotun army seemed unstoppable. They managed to work their way to the palace proper, but already over a dozen descended upon them enough to overwhelm them, so that they were enveloped and soon succumbed to the heavy pressure of many bodies above their own. Thor could not bear the weight. It was enough to soon break bones, to crush them into unconsciousness or death, and yet the hammer was in his hand.

He let out a roar of frustration, as the anger rose within him. The beating of his heart sent forth a surge of adrenaline, enough to remind him of his love for battle, and he felt himself smile despite the taste of blood and all over pain. Thor managed to use what strength he could to swing the hammer, sending a wave of Jotun hurtling backwards, with a great crunch of breaking bones and split skin, and their blood soon ran down the snow to his feet. A moment later, he crashed Mjölnir to the ground and destroyed those in the back lines.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Thor cried.

The few remaining Jotun parted ways, almost like a sea, and their smiling faces said more than he cared to hear from such creatures. Sif stood shakily not far from him. There were great cuts and gouges through her armour and clothing, while her hair had fallen loose from where one Jotun had clawed at it in desperation, and she seemed to have damaged her leg in her fight against the soldiers that came at them. He followed her gaze far beyond, where he saw a creature – first taken as a sculpture or statue – crack from the ice that held it in its prison, and soon she nodded for him to run. There was no time to examine it fully.

“Go, Thor,” she said. “I will hold it off.”

“Alone?” Thor looked at it in dismay. “It is too much.”

“Helblindi is coming. Go, Thor!”

He trusted her to defend herself. Thor used what energy he could to barge into the palace, where he followed the specific and detailed directions of Býleistr, and soon he was climbing the iced stairs to Laufey’s throne-room. The plan to take Laufey alive relied solely on Thor or one of Loki’s brothers reaching the king first, as any other of the rebel army would kill him on sight, and so he felt the weight of responsibility heavy upon him.

Thor struck many of the Jotun army on his way to the room; some fell off the balconies or down various staircases, others would simply collapse where they were struck, and others would fight back until he was left with no choice but to destroy them. There were fewer guards within the palace, but – of those that stayed – all were highly trained and of exceptional skill, so that Thor was often forced to flee out of fear of more numbers coming to support those attacked. He quickly reached the throne room of Laufey and entered.

Laufey sat upon his throne.

He looked every bit the king that he still remained. The markings upon his face were deep and dark, marking him as different from the other Jotun, and there were scars across the chest that spoke of time in battle and in war. He bore a striking resemblance to Loki, although the green horn-like protrusions that traced along his skull were unique to him, and the smirk he wore was far more sadistic than Loki’s arrogant equivalent. Laufey stood slowly and looked down at Thor with an impressive height, and then raised a hand in silent command.

Thor saw the guards before he could react; they took a hold of his upper arms with a burning touch, although just warm enough to prevent permanent damage, and he was forced down onto his knees before Laufey. The king let out a hollow laugh, as he walked slowly towards Thor with narrowed eyes and darkened expression. Thor felt something churn within him, as Laufey used the talents natural to his kind to shape his arm into a lethal blade.

“You are the best that my sons could summon?”

“Aye, my men have turned the tides against you, Laufey,” said Thor.

“Is that so?” Laufey knelt down before Thor. “It looks to me that my men have you at my mercy, while your companions struggle to maintain their positions. I did not think these months apart would bring such bloodshed, our last meeting proved so . . . _promising_.”

“If you hoped for Loki’s return, you hoped wrong. The people have accepted Loki as my husband; he is a prince of Asgard and the future bearer of my children, as such all claims to him that you may have are null and void. This war may not be what either of us hoped, but it has happened nonetheless. Today you will lose your crown and your sons will succeed.”

Laufey let out a laugh, as he reached out and took a hold of Thor’s chin. He forced his head up at a painful angle, so that a spark of pain shot through his spine, and he felt the cold intensify to a point that he could feel the skin beneath his beard burn. There was a cold breeze from Laufey’s lips, as he leaned in close enough that Thor could feel his breath, while the guards gripped hard enough that he was forced to let out a pitiful cry. He panted for breath as Laufey simply grinned and looked at him quizzically. He was trapped.

“I do not plan to be a prisoner in my realm,” said Laufey firmly. “If I must lose this war, I have every intention of causing great loss to Asgard in turn. Your claim over Loki ends with your death; I am aware he is not with child, as such he is mine when your time comes, and I have no intention of making his life an easy one. He will be a servant to our realm. There is great use in a Jotun that can make way of hidden passageways and with great seiðr.

“If he refuses to comply, I shall have him married to any one of Asgard’s enemies. I shall pick the cruellest of men, those known for abuse and infidelity, and I shall make sure his torments are known across all nine realms. There will be no greater pain. I will make it so that your spirit suffers great dishonour knowing how your spouse is so used.”

“You will leave Loki out of this!”

Thor jolted forward. He struggled against the Jotun hands, but they merely increased the coldness of their skin in response. The pain caused him to scream out, until he fell limp in their grip and heaved quick breaths, and he began to pant through the sting of the burns fresh upon his skin. He barely kept a hold of Mjölnir, but there was little room to swing and every chance he would kill Laufey with a misplaced movement. He glared at Laufey with a dangerous gaze, as he choked out a heavy promise:

“My father would destroy your realm!”

“That may be, but the damage will have already been done.” Laufey smirked. “Tell me, Thor Odinson. They say that the Allfather can still hear and see what transpires around him, as well as feel what those close to him feel during his sleep. I hope this is true, so that he may know that your death came at the hands of Laufey. Farwell, Thor.”

Laufey raised his hand to strike.

The ice around his limb sharpened considerably, before it grew smooth and shined like the purest of metals found within all nine realms. Thor held tighter onto his hammer, prepared to risk the death of the king with a single strike, and he felt his heart race as Laufey yanked back his hand and prepared to run the blade through Thor’s heart. Time stood still. The seconds ran into minutes, before Laufey let out a piercing cry and lunged at him.

He failed to deliver the blow. Thor winced as the hand came within inches of his heart; he moved his hammer instinctively, but stopped short of Laufey’s iced hand. The hammer was closed enough to touch ice, so that it was impossible to tell who would have struck first, and Thor – for the first time in his life – felt so close to death that he truly realised his mortality. It was possible he would have struck Laufey’s hand away before it made contact, but not entirely certain. He looked up and saw why Laufey stopped. It chilled him.

“And _your_ death came at the hands of Loki.”

Loki stood behind Laufey; the sword through the king’s chest was wrenched away, so that the body of the man slumped to the floor and lay lifeless, and Loki stood with a dangerous smile upon his lips. He dropped the sword to the floor. The guards that held Thor loosened their grip, but they still held tightly enough to restrain him in place, and Thor looked to see his husband dressed head-to-toe in formal Asgardian armour, which included his helmet.

“Let him go,” said Loki. “Your prince commands you.”

They let go instantly and let Thor fall. He dropped to his forearms and found himself an inch from the deceased king, and he felt a sickening sense of dread that an Asgardian prince could have slain what was a rightful ruler of a foreign realm. Loki’s hand appeared before him, which he took gratefully and used it to pull himself to full height, but he shook upon his feet and felt a great deal of exhaustion from the battle and ordeal. Loki looked perfect with nary a hair out of place, and let his hand linger on Thor’s before he pulled it away.

“You saved me, Husband,” said Thor.

“No, I merely destroyed the life of a monster,” replied Loki. “Your survival was merely an added bonus, but it was not my main priority. _Honestly_ , Thor, you would think that the world revolves around you and nothing else. That being said . . . it is good to see you alive.”

“You left as soon as we arrived. You were not meant to kill him!”

“He was going to kill you. It was self-defence.”

Thor held his tongue. He could see the dangerous glimmer to his husband’s eyes, enough that he knew this had been planned from the start, and he knew that Loki could not be trusted to act alone regarding such politics and policies. They would need to work together, to temper each other and balance one another, but this was not the time to argue. He felt his muscles give a deep ache, one that nearly brought him back to his knees, and he gave a loud groan.

The doors to the throne room opened; Helblindi and Býleistr entered with a large group of their men, although their sashes were torn and bloody, while their men bore a wild array of wounds and scars. Thor no longer felt alone in his pain. Helblindi in particular held a gash that went down to the bone and forced him to keep his arm low, while one of the soldiers behind him lost an eye much like Thor’s father in the past. Loki bowed deeply on sight of his brothers; they bowed back out of etiquette, and then came to stand close to one another.

“Laufey is dead,” said Loki. “The war is over.”

“You would do well as a king,” said Býleistr. “This realm could do with one like you; you have the ear of Asgard, the power to move between realms, and the strength to fell our king with one strike. You have the blood of Laufey, even if have not his spirit.”

“I will act as an ambassador for our people, nothing more.” Loki bowed to his brother. “It was never my intent to rule Jotunheim; this revolution was the work of your people, it took the intelligence of yourself and the strength of Helblindi, and I have full faith in your abilities to make Jotunheim great again. I will support whichever of you chooses to rule. I will do my best to make sure that Asgard can be a valued ally to you and your people.”

“It seems we have much to discuss. If it pleases Prince Thor, we would very much very much like to talk about the terms of our apparent victory. We realise that you cannot speak on the Allfather’s behalf, as such these may be considered merely provisional conditions, but we hope they may bode the start of a long and prosperous relationship between our nations.”

“My husband would be honoured,” replied Loki softly. “We will be sure to convey all you say to the Allfather upon his recovery, but . . . perhaps in the meantime . . . the body of your former tyrant should be made an example. Let the people know your victory.”

Býleistr gave a smile that bore no resemblance to that of Loki or Laufey’s, but his eyes crinkled in a way that was shared by his blood relatives. He raised a hand and his soldiers stepped forward, some to cart away the two guards of Laufey and some to move the body of the former king, and Helblindi – on his brother’s command – whispered to them instruction on how to reach a room dedicated to such negotiations. Loki thanked him kindly.

The Jotun left immediately and they were then alone. There was a rather deafening silence; Thor heard his heart race within his ears, along with every pulse of blood and hiss of breath, and he realised that – at some point – he had broken his nose. He raised a hand and withdrew it to find specks of dried blood and other matter, which he felt a spark of shame when he considered his husband before him. Loki, meanwhile, looked perfect. There was not so much as a scratch upon him, for which Thor was more grateful.

“I need time to heal, Loki, and the battle still wages,” said Thor.

“Ah, but we have won the war, have we not?” Loki smirked. “If you need time to lick your wounds, I would not begrudge your absence. I will quite happily speak on behalf of our realm with our new allies, as I am sure there is much to be said. Go your way, Thor.”

“I would rather suffer my wounds than leave you alone.”

“Do you still hold such little faith in me?”

Thor gave a hollow laugh, as he slapped Loki upon his back. The fact was that he failed to understand his husband’s motivations, while he knew Loki would justify his actions with some weak excuse, most likely one that he remembered ‘no such order’ to keep Laufey alive, and somehow there was something admirable about his actions. Loki had gone from a man espousing views of genocide to simply contenting himself with the life of the one that wronged him, and – in the process – he had revolutionised an entire people.

“I feel more like your keeper than husband,” muttered Thor.

“Indeed, but you love me for it. You have always adored a challenge.” Loki smiled warmly. “Come now, three months of civil war in Jotunheim has ended with an alliance between our realms, and you seek to start an argument? Enjoy yourself. I will make it worth your while later, I can assure you. If you think you can _truly_ call me husband, there is much that you have yet to learn about life. I can teach you things, Thor. _Tonight_.”

A chill ran through Thor’s body. He struggled to fight back his arousal and curiosity, but he could not allow himself to be distracted by such fleeting pleasures, as such he drew himself to full height with a smile in turn. Loki amused him, but he would focus entirely upon the truce between Jotunheim and Asgard. He would see to it that both realms fairly prospered. Thor allowed a hand to wrap around the back of Loki’s neck, as he pulled him closer and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, and Loki – despite his blue skin – flushed most shyly.

“You will be the death of me,” said Thor.

“More than likely,” answered Loki.

 


	11. Chapter 11

# Chapter Eleven

“I notice Loki is uninjured.”

Fandral gave a wince, as he eased himself onto the bench. There was very little colour to his skin, while the bruises upon his body were clear for all to see, and Thor felt a spark of empathy at his friend’s pain. The white undershirt was open to reveal his chest, but the dark over-shirt covered most of his arms and shoulders, and yet somehow he looked stronger for his casual and loose clothing. He massaged the back of his neck with a cold look.

The fires central in the room shed a light upon him. It hit Fandral enough to cast shadows about his face, something which made him look far sterner than usual, but to Sif it reflected from her armour and somehow gave further shape to her body. The young woman sat next to Fandral with a smile that contrasted his frown; Sif had come away with far fewer injuries, as well as far more victories, and it was something she took great pleasure in telling when it came to discussing their battles with the queen. Sif had much to be proud about.

“Loki was the deciding factor in our victory,” said Thor.

“Oh, I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier to digest,” muttered Fandral. “He hasn’t trained with us _once_ since he assumed his Jotun form, so how he could come out completely uninjured is beyond me. I bet – were no magic involved – I would have been on top.”

“A sentiment you cannot gloat about even with your maidens,” quipped Loki.

“Ah, words as cold as your heritage, my prince!”

Loki sank down onto the bench beside Thor. The two of them sat opposite their two friends, as they awaited news concerning Volstagg from the healers, although – as rumour had it – the older man was already consuming a great deal of food as he was attended. Thor reached out and took a hold of Loki’s shoulder; he shook it firmly enough to earn a dark glare from his husband, before he let out a laugh and let his arm drape around Loki affectionately.

He noticed that Loki responded better to being held than to be being shook, enough that he wondered whether the latter reminded him too much of their brotherly connection, and so he made a mental note to avoid any former fraternal gestures. There was a coldness that seeped through Loki’s skin, but nothing too uncomfortable or remotely dangerous, and there came with that temperature a familiarity that filled Thor with a sense of relief. The thought of nearly losing his husband was more than he could bear, but there he was: safe.

The room felt rather warm with the presence of the fire, enough that a small bead of sweat formed on Loki’s brow, but – with three of them recovering – the fire was necessary. Sif sat resplendent before them; she had changed into lighter clothing, wearing the cuts on her bare arms like a badge of honour, and watched them with a genuine interest. It was clear her suspicion of Loki remained, but the adrenaline coursed through her still from battle.

“Were Býleistr’s terms acceptable?” Sif asked.

“Enough so to prove him a competent leader,” said Loki. “I found that Helblindi was far too ambitious in his demands, more a soldier than a king, but I have no doubts that he may prove himself an excellent politician in time. After all, who would have thought that Thor Odinson would sit amicably before a Jotun and discuss a truce between our realms?”

“I guess some things never change,” chimed in Fandral. “You tease Thor far too much! You are equals now, are you not? Volstagg reminds us of that more often than not. He has proven himself a worthy king in the Allfather’s sleep, as well as a mighty warrior. Let us celebrate!”

“There will be time to celebrate later. I would also not put much stock in Thor remaining as king once the Allfather awakens; it was I that slew Laufey, I that worked out a strategy with Býleistr to contribute to our victory, and I that helped to negotiate the truce. It may be true that the Allfather had no plans to allow a Jotun on the throne of Asgard, but I believe I have more than proven my loyalties to this realm and its people.”

Fandral gave a laugh that caused Loki to tense. Thor felt those muscles stiffen and saw how his husband recoiled slightly, enough that he lifted his chin and flared his nostrils, and – as the light from the fire struck him – he appeared regal and authoritative. The lines on his face held shadows beneath them, enough to age him and caused him to look older than his years, but there was arrogance there that Thor never before realised. If Thor felt himself grow closer to his mother, Loki was himself growing to be more like Odin each day.

“I would set your sights a little lower, Loki,” said Fandral.

“The Allfather will likely see to it that your Asgardian form is returned,” added Sif. “It cannot be that you shall rule over Asgard, even if our queen supports such an idea. You would do better to act as a role model for our people. It would serve you better.”

“My, what strange advice.” Loki gave a bitter smile. “Tell me, did you accept your role allotted to you by our people? I believe you proved wrong all those that scoffed at the idea of a woman as a warrior, as well as having earned a place by the sides of our greatest fighters, and yet you tell me to submit to the role of a consort. I think not, Sif.”

“It is a moot point in any case,” replied Thor. “I have made it clear to my mother that I shall not rule without Loki to rule with me; we shall both be kings, we shall both decide the laws of this realm, and we shall provide a balance for one another. It is fortunate that she agrees with my decision, as will – I hope – my father. I think that Loki provides a foresight and understanding of the people that I lack, whereas I can provide strength and empathy that he may sometimes forego in his plans. Together we are stronger than apart.”

“The Allfather may not see it that way.” Sif looked down with a hint of sadness. “You may make each other stronger, but only when you both allow it. You have a way of also acting as the other’s weakness, so that you would sacrifice anything to hurt or help the other, and this must also be accounted, Thor. If you were to rule together, you would also be expected to create an heir together. Is this something either of you wish to happen?”

Thor looked to Loki for some form of answer. Loki remained unreadable, however, although the same could not be said for Fandral. The blond-haired man avoided eye contact with either of them, as he slouched backward and rested his foot upon his knee, and he flushed just slightly with the secret knowledge about his friend’s relationship. It was something he half-expected Fandral to have shared with the others, but he evidently knew discretion well and was incredibly trustworthy. He looked to Sif instead and smiled weakly.

There was an expression of concern, as she wanted what was best for Thor. It was difficult for her to see their relationship as one that was romantic or sexual, while it was common knowledge that Odin had sought for a union between her and Thor, and it was likely – like many around them – she assumed the marriage would be annulled in the aftermath of the war. He saw no judgement in her expression, nor any coldness, but she did eye Loki suspiciously.

“Loki is my husband,” said Thor simply.

Sif looked taken aback. She looked to Fandral, who simply shrugged, before she then looked to Loki and narrowed her eyes in intense scrutiny of him. The two of them had always held a rather complex relationship, but that showed no more than it did in that precise moment. They seemed to distrust one another, even as a mutual respect lay between them, and Sif in particular looked caught between confronting Loki and giving him space. The idea of a physical union between the two likely felt unnatural to her.

“You mean legally? It has been –”

“Consummated, yes,” said Loki. “Be aware that I have no intent to be treated as less than a person due to my perceived ‘gender’. If I choose to bear forth an heir, I will have the head of any man that dares to suggest I should no longer rule or fight.”

“Such a thought never crossed _my_ mind,” interrupted Fandral. “It’s an insinuation that need not be said aloud, however, as plenty will be thinking it already. You will have to fight harder than Sif to be seen as equal to other men, but something tells me that you are more than up to such a task. That being said, do wait a while, eh? I want to best you in battle first.”

“Even barefoot and pregnant I could still defeat you, Fandral.”

“Care to make a wager on that?”

Thor let out a hearty laugh. There would be much to discuss later, as he was under no false impression that Sif or his mother would easily accept such a union, but it boded well that they thought no less of Loki for being in such a relationship. Sif – if anything – looked more firmly upon Thor, while it was Thor’s eye that Fandral sought to avoid, and it was clear that Loki’s fears were unfounded. He still held their respect and friendship.

The door to the rooms then opened. A healer stepped inside and gave a deep bow, before she stood and looked between the room’s occupants. There was a chill in the air; a draught came in from the open door, enough to cause the fire to flicker and Loki to close his eyes briefly in relief, and she looked to Loki and then cast a frown at the fires. Sif appeared to take the hint and lowered the flames at once, although a small sigh emitted from the healer’s lips nonetheless, and she soon gave a smile and spoke with great warmth.

“Volstagg has made a full recovery, my lord.”

“Excellent, thank you for this news.

The healer bowed again and left swiftly. Thor – feeling the relief – stood and offered his hand to Loki, who took it with a roll of his eyes and a great deal of reluctance, and Sif tended to the fire to extinguish the flames entirely. There was still a great ache to his muscles, but the bruises would only add proof to his words and cause further interest to his stories, and he felt a great deal of relief that they were able to share in their victory together. He let an arm drape around Loki once more, as he held tight to his husband’s shoulder.

“Tomorrow we must have celebrations,” said Thor.

“A feast to end all feasts,” added Sif. “We have many tales to tell from our battles on Jotunheim, and it shall be a pleasure to share them with the people. I imagine Loki’s stories will put ours to shame; killing a tyrant and escaping capture is enough to steal the attention of an entire room. I – for one – look forward to hearing of your achievements.”

“We shall have a lifetime to hear such tales.” Thor laughed. “I am simply glad that – for tonight – we can postpone the celebrations and rest. If it pleases Loki, I propose that we retire to our rooms. We can discuss politics and regale in stories tomorrow.”

“I see no harm in such a thing,” said Loki noncommittally.

“Aye, as there is no harm at all.”

Sif cast Thor another firm look, but said her goodbyes kindly. He knew that he would need to talk to her at a later date, to reassure her that he had not pressured Loki into anything untoward, but he had been reckless in his youth and unthinking to the feelings of others. It was a reputation that would take time to undo. The two friends left quickly, but not until they had shaken hands or shared embraces with Loki and Thor, and soon they were gone.

The newfound quiet was difficult to process. Thor moved to stand before Loki, where he took his husband’s face between his hands, and looked upon him with a great deal of affection. He caught the sincere smirk to Loki’s lips, along with the way he looked back at Thor with the same form of admiration, and he knew that his brother was not gone entirely. There was still something of their previous relationship there, and yet Thor no longer cared for so long as Loki was safe and content within his arms. He pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“The war of two people is over, Husband,” said Thor.

“Ah, but ours is only just beginning.”

Thor laughed warmly in response.

“I love you dearly, Loki.”

 

 


End file.
